


Elise - Only Fools Rush In

by KyberHearts_And_StardustSouls



Series: Translations of Love [4]
Category: Oscar Isaac - Fandom
Genre: F/M, Falling In Love, Film Industry, Grief, Kids, Languages, Love, Marriage, Romance, Smut, Traveling, movie industry, post loss romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-16
Updated: 2018-02-24
Packaged: 2018-11-19 12:17:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 53,525
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11313225
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KyberHearts_And_StardustSouls/pseuds/KyberHearts_And_StardustSouls
Summary: Contradiction of wanting it all at once and one step at a time tests their whirlwind of a relationship beyond its limits. Will they make it work or will their own passions tear them apart?





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for waiting. It's been a while since I promised this chapter. Things here have been up and down.  
> Let me know what you guys think.  
> Thank you.  
> KyberHearts_And_StardustSouls

The second he felt a shift in the mattress, his eyes shot open. A few seconds and his sight adjusted to the darkness of the night.  
He saw her sitting on the edge, back to him and quiet. Only a low-lit outline gave away movement. An up and down motion like she was heaving breaths. He knew in an instant that she was trying to hold back tears as not to wake him.   
   
A soft sigh and he carefully shifted closer to her, his hand slowly reaching for her shoulder. The fact that she flinched at his touch was understandable but it broke his heart nonetheless.   
   
"Sweetie?"  
She didn't reply. Only her breathing became more labored.   
Right on the cusp of breaking down.   
   
From the back, he saw her moving a hand to her throat, her breaths shortening even more.  
He scooted closer and stretched his legs to the floor, sitting up next to her before wrapping his arm around her to pull her into his chest. There was a second of hesitation. A second where it seemed that all her air had been cut off. A tremble shook her. Then she let go, the entirety of her body sinking into him when the tears started falling.  
   
He knew she wouldn't talk. Not that she would have been able to anyways. Not while crying heavy tears. So he just held her until there were no tears left.  
"Do you want some water?"  
She nodded into his chest.  
   
He reached for the lamp on her nightstand and switched on the light.   
"I'll be right back, ok?"  
She nodded again, her focus on the floor.   
He wanted to cup her chin so she would look into his eyes, but he knew that after those kind of tears she needed time. A moment to go from vacant numbness to what little thoughts she was able to collect. So he let her be.  
   
It took him less than two minutes to grab a glass of water. Even so, she was already lulling back into sleep by the time he returned. The exhaustion from her tears and intermittent sleep setting in. He would have let her, too, had she not still been sitting up.  
"Sweetie." He gently tapped her shoulder and she jerked her head up. "Hey... sorry. You were falling asleep. Don't want you to fall over," he whispered with a chuckle but she didn't smile.  
   
"Here, --- drink some water." He held the glass in front of her until she reached for it. If he hadn't, she would've just curled up with her back to him and gone to back sleep. But he knew that sometimes even a sip helped ease the nightmare away. At least for tonight.   
   
She handed the glass back then shifted to lie back down, her face to him. He sat the glass on the nightstand, caressing her face a second after, swiping a few limp strands of her hair behind her ear. Exhausted grays met worried browns. "I'm gonna go use the bathroom. So I'll be right back, ok?" He waited for her response. She nodded into his hand resting on her cheek. "Ok. Right back," he repeated softly and she nodded again.  
   
She closed her eyes, and he slowly retracted his hand, holding a worried gaze on her.   
Nearly a week had passed since Walla Walla.   
Five long days, actually, during which he had stayed by her side nearly every minute of the day because she was afraid to be left alone. Even in the comfort of her own home, she was afraid. Even with the knowledge that the real nightmare, the physical manifestation, was never going to bother her again, she --- was ---- afraid.   
   
He sighed and slowly paced to the bathroom.  
During the last five days, he had watched her succumb to an invisible darkness.   
She refused food. Refused phone calls and visitors. Refused a regular care routine.   
She was here but not really here.   
She was quiet most of the time except for short "yes" and "no" answers, or - _like just a few minutes ago_ \- her heavy sobbed tears; no words beyond that.  
   
When she wasn't staring out the balcony door, she was wrapped in his cardigan on the sofa, pretending to watch TV. Pretending because her eyes were focused on some imaginary point beyond whatever flickered across the screen.   
She hadn't even left her apartment. Not since they had returned.   
   
Seeing her break down like that hurt, but he could handle most of those things. Even watching her refuse food. The thing he couldn't handle was her withdrawal from him. He knew why her embraces stayed weak. Why her kisses didn't feel like her. Why warm reassurance was repaid with dull grays time and time again.  
   
But it ached him that she was closing off like this. That she didn't want to talk.  
She was miles away at any given second, and sometimes he doubted if she even noticed he was there. That they all were there, actually: her sister, brother-in-law, and her best friends, all but a phone call away.  
   
He would take anything right now. And so would they. Yelling. Throwing things. Cried conversation. Anything to know what she was feeling. But she withdrew, and for now, all he could do was reassure her that he was only ever one room away.  
And all they could do was call him for updates and reassure him that they were all but a phone call away.  
   
He washed his hands and stared in the mirror, inspecting the bruise around his left brow and the cuts on his neck. He shook his head.   
If only he hadn't left the room. If only he hadn't needed water and ice and whatever else. If only he had been more vigilant of his surroundings.   
   
   
If only ...  
   
   
If only ...  
   
   
If only ...  
   
   
If only he hadn't left the damn room, she would not be this shell of a person she was now, that much he knew.   
He had to take a few soothing breaths. The thoughts had elevated his heart-rate to rage. So he needed a few soothing breaths. And a few more.   
Then he dried his hands.  
   
When he returned to the bedroom, she was in deep sleep. So he switched off the lamp and crawled back into bed, scooting as close to her as possible, wrapping an arm around her. And when she twitched, he soothed her with little "shhhs" and "I'm right heres", at least until his own exhaustion had his mind adrift.   
   
The only good thing this particular week was the fact that neither had to work. It meant sleeping in, usually until bodies ached or legs became restless, or his stomach grumbled.   
Today, his ringing cell woke them before any of that had a chance to set in. Way too early, too. Only seven a.m.. Granted, it was Friday, and most people with a regular life actually were up way before then.  
   
He pulled in a long breath and finally answered. "Hey. ... Yes. Just getting up. ... No, we weren't sleeping... Ok, so we were still asleep," he chuckled. And for the first time in six days so did she.  
At least, that's what it looked like when he caught her shoulders moving. He smiled at that.  
"So what's up? ... Ah yeah?... When? ... Alright. Sure... K... Promise... I'll send a text when we're ready...K... Later." He hung up and ran his hand across his face and into his curls. "Your sister wants us to come by the new house later." He dropped back into his pillow, face to her back.  
   
Elise rolled over, dark circles under bloodshot grays, the reply already forming on her lips, and he knew exactly what she was going to say. "I know you don't want to, Sweetie, but --- you need to get out of the house. Your sister misses you. Everyone misses you. It'll be good for you. Hmmmm?" He caressed over her face. "Please?" He smiled as warmly as he could, but it didn't hide the deep worry creases etching into his forehead.  
   
She profiled his face with her index, her eyes trailing to the bruise around his left brow before touching it ever so gently. "I... I... I can't." She barely trembled out those words before crying, again.   
Unlike last night, she didn't sink into his chest. Instead, she rolled back and cried into her pillow. The guilt she was feeling over him getting hurt evident in the way she pulled her whole body into herself.  
   
He sighed. "Ok. Well. I'm going to get up and make breakfast, ok?"  
No response.  
"Sweetie." He wiggled closer to her and kissed her shoulder. "Sweetie. Please look at me."   
She didn't stir.  
"Elise. Please?"  
She rolled back with twisted lips and tears still rolling hot over her face.   
His heart hurt at the sight. "Oh, Sweetie. I'm so sorry. I'm so so sorry. I know you're in pain. But please? Please come along. You don't have to talk. You don't have to eat. You can sleep there if you like. Jim said he finished one of the guest rooms. I'm sure you can rest there. But you do need to get out. See different scenery. Hmmm?" Oscar palmed her face, waiting, and she - _at last_ \- nodded ok.  
   
"Ok. Good. I'm going to get up and make breakfast. Go take a shower. Ok?"  
She nodded again and he finally got out of bed.  
He pulled on sweats and a tee then walked to her side of the bed. He pushed against her shoulder and she rolled over to face him. A gentle tug on her hands and she finally got up, too. "Good. Now. Shower." He kissed her forehead, his gaze falling to her neck. Involuntarily, but she noticed.  
   
Her hands shot up to cover the bruises, her whole body shaking, about to fall to pieces again. He heaved his chest, and she crumbled; so he held her, yet again.   
He breathed into her hair. "Do you want me to take a shower with you?"   
She shook her head no.  
"Ok." He swept some hair from her forehead and placed another kiss. "I'll be in the kitchen. Making breakfast. OK?"  
She nodded then dragged to the bathroom, him following closely behind.  
Until she disappeared behind the door of the bathroom, at least.  
   
Her closing the door wasn't unusual. She always did that. Her locking it, however, was.   
He heaved his chest, again, then made his way to the kitchen. No music as he wanted to make sure he could hear when she got out of the bathroom. Not that he thought she wouldn't come out. He trusted his instinct that she wouldn't hurt herself. But he knew, she was likely crying under the water. And if he didn't pay attention, she'd probably stay there until the water turned cold, running the risk of hypothermia. So he needed to make sure he heard when she got out, or at least to make sure she didn't stay too long.  
   
To his surprise, she got out just ten minutes later.   
Another five and he saw her turn the corner towards the table where he was already waiting. A quick once-over and he noted she wore pajama bottoms and a tank, her hair still wet. The strong scent of strawberry-coconut shampoo wrapped around his nose, and he smiled. At least she had **_washed_** washed her hair this time. An effort that had slipped her mind these past six days. A glimmer of hope settled in his mind while he gave her another quick once-over.  
   
She, on the other hand, was focused on the table, tracking over what he had made.  
Scrambled eggs, bacon, and toast for himself.  
Oatmeal and strawberries for her. In the //nice bowl//.   
A chocolate candy bar sat next to the bowl and two strong coffees in the center of the table. Her lip curled slightly upward at the sight of the chocolate bar. He never failed to set one out, even though he knew she wasn't going to eat it.   
   
"Milk?" He held up a small carton.  
"Yes, please."  
He poured and she took her seat. There was a moment when her focus fixated on the spoon next to her bowl, him studying her with nearly held breath.   
"Did you add brown sugar?" She moused out, reaching for the spoon.  
"No. Let me go get it." He shot up and hurried, not wanting to waste a second because he was afraid she'd change her mind about eating.   
   
He grabbed an extra spoon with the brown sugar and rushed back. "How much?"  
"Just a little bit."  
His hand trembled. So much so, it took two tries to scoop up some of the sugar before finally sprinkling it over her oatmeal.   
She whispered a "thank you" and dipped her spoon, and he held his breath, watching her. It felt like it had been forever since she had eaten. So he watched, still standing, the bag of brown sugar and spoon still in his hands.    
"It's good." Her head tilted up.   
He gulped then smiled; a sigh of relief following that.  
   
He watched as she took another bite and one more before he returned to his seat, placing bag and spoon on the table.  
"I'm glad you're eating." He stated warmly, digging into his eggs.   
She just nodded in response, a thin smile dancing across her lips.   
A small victory, he thought.   
Minuscule really.   
She only ate a quarter of what he had made for her, the smile vanishing as quickly as it came. But he didn't care. To him, this was another small victory. Another tiny step towards healing.   
   
There was an urge to ask her how she was feeling in that very second, but he oppressed it. He didn't want to push too hard too fast.   
The counselor that had talked to them, after witness statements had been taken, had explained that recovery from trauma would take time. Anything from a few days to a few weeks, maybe months. That there would be days of extremes headed their way. Complete withdrawal to outbursts of anger at anyone in range. Sleepless nights and restlessness to sleeping away days and inability to do even the smallest of tasks.   
   
That he, too, needed to be prepared for his own moments, because he was as much a victim as she was. That he might feel angry and helpless. That he might blame himself for things that had been out of his control. And that they both would work through everything at a different pace. Him likely faster than her, only because of her previous experiences with the attacker.  
   
The latter worried him the most. While he seemed to be able to handle all this in strides, she withered away. Not that he didn't have said moments. Mostly short fits of anger at himself. Mostly whenever he was alone for a moment or two.   
   
But all it ever took him to get down from that rage was a few soothing breaths. That, and talking to himself in the mirror. Usually, words that things would be ok. That he was glad he had gotten back to the room before worse could've happened. Reassurance that, in the end, she was still here, and that despite the distance right now, she still wanted him to be around, even if she didn't say so directly, her body language his only guide the majority of the time.  
And right now, in this moment, everything conveyed progress. And he accepted it. Regardless of how small it was.  
   
He got up and started gathering the dishes. He was halfway to the kitchen when he felt her sliding her arms around him from behind. He stopped and they both stood still for a moment.  
"Thank you," she whispered then kissed into his shirt.  
"No problem, mi Reina. Go get ready, ok. Wear comfortable clothes. Tina is picking us up whenever we're ready."  
The "ok" that followed came without hesitation. A good sign, in his eyes.  
   
Twenty minutes later, they both stood in front of the apartment complex, waiting for Christine. The sun was out, not a cloud in the sky, the heat already picking up with lack of trades.  
   
Oscar side-eyed Elise. Upon his advice, she'd chosen comfortable clothes:  simple leggings and a slouchy shirt, and the modified converse with names of her favorite bands. She had twisted her hair into a small, messy bun. No makeup. A turquoise scarf and the tourmaline ring the only accessories. She looked smaller than usual, and not just because she had lost weight again.   
   
He drew in a heavy breath and slipped his hand into hers, fingers intertwining. He squeezed a few times then kissed into the side of her hair. "I love you," he whispered.  
Her head moved, worn grays meeting his tired browns. "Ich liebe dich, auch."   
Another kiss then they saw Christine pulling up to the curb.  
   
They scooted into the back of the SUV and buckled in.  
"Jim's not coming along?" Oscar asked when Christine put the car back into drive, pulling away from the curb and heading north-northwest.   
"He's already there. Waiting for the contractor," Christine peered into the rearview mirror then refocused on the street. "They're delivering the heavy machinery today, so we can tackle the yards. And at some point the new topsoil for the garden."  
"I see. So you called for manual labor, huh?" Oscar joked.  
"Actually, after what Patricia has told me, it'd be best if you just manned the kitchen." Christine winked into the rearview mirror.  
"Ah geez, thanks. --- Not like any of her stuff fell apart." Oscar sulked.  
"Not yet. But you never know." Christine laughed.  
So did Oscar.  
   
Even Elise, who'd been staring out the window, chuckled at those words, her mind going back to when they had helped her BFF move. Patricia had mentioned that she never did figure out where those leftover screws belonged to. So maybe Oscar cooking while everyone else helped turn the yards was a good call.   
   
Not that turning yards was difficult, but Elise ventured he wasn't handy there either. At least not in the proper way, and she knew Christine wouldn't let a //if it fits, it fits// attitude slide. Not when it came to Christine's living spaces. The thought made Elise chuckle, again, then she returned to staring out the window.  
   
Half an hour after pick up, they pulled up in front of Redfield Manor. "Looks like the contractor is already here." Christine gestured with her chin towards a few large machines. Elise peered out the front window and spotted James and Richard talking to a man in a hard-hat. By the looks of it, the contractor was asking if they knew how to use the machines. A few nods and James signed some papers, the contractor and crew, who had helped deliver the machines, getting into a van a few seconds after, leaving.  
   
Elise tracked after the van then her attention shifted back to the front of the house, only now noticing an abundance of vehicles. Richard's truck was a given. So was James' sedan. The other vehicles maybe not so much. She recognized one car as Patricia's. The blue Mini parked after that was definitely Helen's, which probably meant that Matt was here as well. All of it not so bad, if it hadn't been for the red 2014 F150 with Oregon plates.   
   
A lingering gaze at the truck then she felt Oscar squeeze her hand.   
"Why didn't you tell me Edgar and Sandra are visiting?" Elise asked. There was a bitter tone to her voice. Out of all the people she wanted to see the least Sandra and Edgar were it. She still hadn't talked to them since that day at court. Nor had they reached out to her.    
   
"Because you wouldn't have come along," Oscar stated matter of factly and with a raised brow.  
"They hate me." Elise pulled her hand from Oscar's.   
"They do not hate you!" Christine chimed in.   
"After everything you've been through, I really doubt they ever want to talk to me again." Elise scoffed, shaking her head. She folded her arms. "Take me home."  
" **No!** "   
   
Elise's head jerked to the right where she was met with a hardened jaw and stern brows. "You cannot tell me no!" She gaped at Oscar.  
"Christine. Please?" Oscar tilted his head, hinting Elise's sister for a moment alone.  
Christine got out, leaving the keys in the ignition, then ambled towards James; the couple and Richard staring in the direction of the SUV right after.   
   
An awkward silence spread. Defensive posture met defensive posture. "You can't avoid them forever." Oscar started and Elise shook her head, tightening her arms. He cupped her chin and gently forced her to look at him. "They don't hate you. They're worried about you. We all are. But especially Sandra."  
Elise scoffed again.   
   
A whispered "whatever" had Oscar clench his jaw. "I love you, Liz, but I don't know what else to do. You're not talking to me. You're not talking to any of them. You're not eating. You're not leaving your house. And the nights. --- I know you've been having nightmares every single night. I cannot help you. Not on my own. And I... I...," he paused with a gulp, those last words shaky.   
   
Tough love was difficult, but it was as he said. He didn't know what else to do. He had treaded on eggshells to keep her comfortable and now realized that that may have been a mistake. Not that he wanted her upset. Nor did he want her to relive that evening again and again by talking about what had happened. But he wished, in that moment, that he hadn't waited until now to say what he was about to say.  
   
"I cannot watch you waste away. I won't watch you waste away! I know all of this is messing with your head right now. That you're scared he might come back somehow. I know you're blaming yourself for this." Oscar pointed to his bruise. "But Sweetie, you're not alone. You don't have to work through this alone. We're here. All of us. And that includes Edgar and Sandra." He waited to see if she'd respond, but she just shook her head again, her gaze dropping to the floor of the SUV.  
   
"Alright. Well. I'm getting out of the car. Going to roll down the windows for you, but I'm taking the keys." Oscar leaned forward and did as he said. Despite cold-shouldered resistance, he kissed her temple, then got out and trudged towards James, Christine, and Richard; the three of them embracing him then pacing towards the house.  
   
Elise watched them disappear behind the entrance.   
She peered around the lot, Oscar's words repeating in her mind. In fact, the whole week was on repeat and how he'd been by her side the entire time. Even when he had left to get groceries one afternoon, he had been around, talking to her over his cell the whole trip.   
   
She was playing with the tourmaline stone on her ring when his face flashed before her eyes. A collection of smiles mostly. Tired smiles. Worried smiles. Questioning smiles. With dark circles of his own.   
She had been so consumed by this looming darkness that she hadn't noticed how worn down _he_ had become. Her stomach twisted. Why hadn't she paid attention to him? He'd been paying attention to her? Why couldn't she spare the same for him?   
   
She sighed then she pulled the handle to open the door. A few skipped breaths before she felt courageous enough to actually get out of the car. A few more skipped breaths before she made her way towards the house, each step heavier than the previous.  
Another breath before she dared to open the front door.  
   
There was a moment where no one had noticed her entering. A moment that was filled with laughter and happy voices. People talking over one another, topics intermingling from plans of the day to how the living room should be decorated to what they should have for lunch. A moment that she had been looking forward to ever since James had shown her the house. A perfect moment. One she thought she would enjoy. Instead, she stood frozen, unsure how to proceed.  
   
"Aunty Elise!" Danielle and Donnie yelled in unison, and all for sudden everyone was aware that she was here. The laughter seized. And so did the talking.   
The kids dashed for her, hugging her, but she remained frozen in place.  
"Are you ok?" Donnie asked quite bluntly. Not that anyone could blame him. Kids always were quite forward.   
"Uhm... I'm..." Elise gulped, a numbness barely holding her together.  
   
"How about we give aunty Elise some space, hmm?" Patricia geared towards her kids, the children letting go of Elise and meeting their mom halfway.   
"Can we go play on the playground?" Danielle bounced on her heels.   
"Actually, we need to check first to make sure there aren't any loose pieces or exposed nails," James interjected before Patricia could say yes.  
"Awe." Unison frown from the kids.  
"Tell you guys what. I got some extra hard-hats in the truck. And a couple of tool belts that might fit you. You guys can help me inspect the structure and fix what needs fixing," Richard took over and the kids jumped in excitement.  
"Alright, alright. Calm down. You two need to be careful, you hear me. Listen to uncle Richard and uncle James." Patricia lifted a stern brow and the kids nodded. They knew not to disobey their mother. A slow tilt of the head and they replied with a "we promise" then they followed James and Richard to the playground.  
   
The door closed and Elise still didn't move. The whole scene just now felt strange. Like she was there, watching it unfold, but not really. Like she stood outside of herself and when she returned to her body, the experience left behind bits and pieces that should've made her feel something. Anything.  
"Thanks," she whispered towards Patricia, her focus shifting to the floor. She could feel everyone still gazing at her. Feel the questions lingering in the air.  
Why did they all have to be here?  
Why not just James and Christine and little Chloé?  
   
She shook her head, her breaths shortening to labored pants as her whole body began to tremble, the bits and pieces she thought amiss just now reaching her. The silence that everyone offered didn't help. In fact, it became too much  --- too much to bear.  
Another second.  
More labored pants.  
Lingering silence.  
Stinging pain in her chest.   
Then she broke down.   
Right then and there.   
Heavy tears once again falling from her eyes as her face fell into her palms.  
   
"Oh, honey. Honey.... no... shhhh..." a voice closed in fast, the owner pulling Elise into a warm embrace. It took a few seconds for Elise to realize that it was Sandra who had rushed to her side. A few seconds to comprehend that it was her mother-in-law who was holding her close. "Shhhh... Honey. It'll be ok. --- It'll be ok."  
Elise let herself fall into the embrace and Sandra held her even tighter.  
"Let's go outside. To the patio." Sandra suggested, soft-voiced; Elise just nodding in response. "Ladies," Sandra gestured with her chin towards the backyard and the women followed.   
   
Oscar stared after them until they were all outside then ambled to the fridge. It was barely nine 'o'clock in the morning, technically way too early for a beer. He shrugged and got one anyways. He needed one.   
   
He plopped on one of the bar stools by the kitchen island and sighed.  
"You alright, Oscar?" Edgar asked.  
"I'll be fine."   
"Son! That's not what I asked, and you know it." Edgar paced to the fridge and pulled three more beers. One for himself. One for Matt. And one for a man Oscar didn't recall ever meeting. Not in person at least.   
"Owen, right?" Oscar stretched out his hand.  
"Yup." Owen accepted the hand with a short but strong gripped shake.   
   
"So tell us, how you holding up?" Edgar nudged on when they all had had a swig of their own beers.  
Oscar rubbed over his face, stroking his six-day beard. Like Elise, he'd forgone a few self-care routines. Shaving the most obvious one. "Better than her."  
"Ah yeah? Is that why your hair looks like a bird's nest?" Matt pointed to Oscar's curls and Oscar chuckled.  
"Dude. Give me a break."  
"Then tell us how you really are." Edgar requested again, taking on a military tone and posture, and Oscar knew he had better answer this time around.  
   
"Tired. We both are. Angry. Frustrated," Oscar admitted, taking another sip from his beer.  
"Hmmmm... you will be. For some time. Did you guys consider counseling?" Edgar asked without hesitation. He never was the talk around the bush type of guy.   
"No."  
"You should. I mean... We're here too, but what happens when you move?"  
"We're not moving. Well, she's not."  
"Right. Not yet. But she will. Eventually. She needs that change. I actually think she wants that change. Her excuses are temporary right now. And she knows, we're all here to help with the babies. And that we can fly out or she can fly in."  
"Your son said the same thing. And I agree. For the most part. But not all her excuses are temporary. What about Joe?"  
   
There was a heaved chest kind of pause. From Edgar. "Joe... Joe is with her wherever she goes. She doesn't need to visit his site to talk to him, and you know that." Another pause. "Besides. I think it will be good for her not to be able to fall back on certain things. To take away a few of those what she thinks are safety nets. Safety nets can be quite dangerous especially when they're old and frayed in all the wrong places. One jump and a person can get tangled in all the wrong ways. --- Joe isn't here to catch her anymore. Not in a way that is healthy. But you are! And deep in her heart, she knows this."  
   
Oscar's eyes widened. To hear Edgar talk about his late son in this manner was surprising, to say the least. "I hope you're right. I just... I don't want to stress her out."  
"You're not going to. She loves you. She must, or else she'd have never said yes," Edgar winked and Oscar husked out a laugh.   
"Oh man... God. I still can't believe she said yes," Oscar chuckled, running his hands through his messy curls.  
"Yeah, well, you better make sure you don't break her heart." Edgar finished the rest of his beer, laughing when Oscar gave him a horrified stare. "It's not me you have to worry about, son. Sandy... she might be short but don't let that fool you." Edgar laughed wholeheartedly.   
"Great. This whole time I've been worried about you and James. I should probably pay more attention to the women in Liz's life," Oscar squinted, and the lot of them fell into laughter.  
   
"It can't be that bad," Matt peered from face to face.  
"You don't know the half of it." Owen frowned.  
"I take it, Mikki gave you the best friend talk, huh?" Oscar chuckled.  
Owen's eyes widening in horror was all the answer needed, and the men laughed again.  
   
"Well, we better get started. James wants to get the backyard finished by lunchtime before they deliver the topsoil. That way Tina can plant for next spring already, and we can move to the front lot. Lots of shrubs and weeds that need to get dug up and pulled." Edgar collected the empty beer bottles, Matt and Owen already aiming for the front door to pull on their boots.  
   
"What time are you heading to the airport?" Edgar asked when he and Oscar followed suit a few minutes later.  
"I should probably leave here around two, no later than three." Oscar smiled.  
"K. No more beer then, and maybe fix your hair," Edgar raised a brow.  
Oscar laughed. "I'll take a long shower at her place before I pick them up."  
"Good. Does she know?"  
"Nope. Thought it best to surprise her. Just hope Sandra won't spoil it, or Tina for that matter."  
"Nah. They know not to say a word. I do say this though. Looking forward to meeting her. We all are."  
Oscar just smiled in response then they made their way outside; Richard, James, Matt, and Owen already moving heavy machinery to the backyard.  
"We're gonna be so sore," Edgar grumbled with wide eyes and Oscar laughed.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this took so long. Still waiting for surgery. It's coming up fast. So I'll be absent again for a while.

A soft turn of the knob and he quietly pushed the guest room's door open. Quietly because after knocking for the third time and getting no response, he assumed she was asleep.   
And he was right.   
   
His left brow lifted in amusement, a small chuckle accompanying the lift. He always loved the way she slept. Rolled up like a burrito with messy hair sticking out the top and feet sticking out the bottom; the latter because it was her way to keep temperature balanced. And right now, she was resting curled up into a quilt, facing the portable crib, and one arm hanging loosely over the side as to ensure Berenjena Pequeñita that aunty was around. Even so, she had somehow managed for only her hair and feet to be visible, which in turn made him chuckle again.  
   
A coo and happy baby-babbles and his attention shifted to the portable crib. He quietly paced closer and reached in. "Hey Tiny. How you doing?" he whispered as he lifted Chloé to his chest. "Aunty must be really tired if she didn't hear you, huh?" he snickered when he glanced at Elise again.   
   
Sleeping beauty wasn't a term he would use right now. Messy hair, purred snores, and ... a little bit of drool. But he loved this more than perfection. Actually, to him, this was perfection. Especially this time around. Because for the first time in a week, she seemed to actually be at peace while sleeping. No sign of twisted sheets or terror induced cold sweats. Just restful sleep.   
   
He sat Tiny on the floor, handing baby a plush T-Rex, then sat on the edge of the bed. A gentle rub against a covered leg and she stirred, smacking her lips.  
"What?... Chloé?" Elise shot up, looking around confused, meeting amused eyes instead.   
"Heya, sleepyhead," Oscar chuckled, leaning in for a kiss against her temple.  
Elise rubbed her eyes and looked around again. "What time is it?"  
"Almost six in the evening?" He smiled.  
   
She threw the quilt off, sitting up completely. "Shit. Why didn't you wake me? ... Wait..." She squinted, her sight still adjusting. "Did you shave?... And your hair... What day is it?" She reached for her cell on the nightstand, the display showing Friday, August 21, 2015. "Did I miss something? When did you shower? Actually, when did you leave? You weren't wearing those clothes earlier." She pointed at his dark washed jeans and blue button down.   
   
She stood up, still a bit confused. "And where is Chloé?" She asked when she noted the empty crib, a bit of panic in her voice.  
"Chloé is fine," he gestured with his chin to the floor where his goddaughter sat playing with the plush T-Rex. Thrashing it from side to side more like it. "I left shortly after you fell asleep." He pulled Elise close by her waist, snickering, amused by her continued confusion. She hadn't had a good night's sleep in days. True rest must have thrown her a bit for a loop.   
   
She pulled her brows tight, clearly not as amused by all this as him, but his good mood didn't wane. He pulled her closer and kissed her brow. "I'm glad you got some sleep." He kept smiling and she sighed.  
"It did feel good." Her face softened.  
"That's good." He caressed her face. "Talking with family and friends helps." His eyes became serious for a moment and she nodded in agreement.   
   
A high pitched squeal and their eyes cut to Chloé; Tiny throwing the plush T-Rex out of reach. A wobble and Chloé went from sitting to being on hands and knees. Oscar chuckled when he noticed Elise holding her breath. They waited a few seconds. A few backward and forward wobbles and Chloé started crawling - _somewhat unsteady_ \- towards the toy. Once she reached it, she tossed it again, crawling after it again.   
"Looks like she's finally mobile," Oscar laughed.  
"Don't tell Tina. I'm sure she wants to film this." Elise's eyes went wide then she, too, laughed, Oscar sneaking a content kiss into her hair. How good it felt to hear her laugh.  
   
Then they watched as Chloé proceeded to crawl towards the angled guest room's door, Oscar quietly following his goddaughter to keep an eye on her as well as on Elise; the big grin on his face completely unnoticed by Elise, mainly because she was focused on her niece.   
   
So focused, in fact, that she didn't notice that Tiny wasn't crawling without direction but instead made her way to inspect a pair of black leather shoes. Black leather shoes that came attached with a pair of legs clad in dark gray slacks. And a torso, too. In a dark gray, double button blazer. Not to mention a face. A warm, oval face with deep upward wrinkles around mouth and eyes because a smile settled there; right when her eyes met his. Right when realization set in of who was standing in front of her.  
   
"Papa!" Elise said somewhat shocked.   
"Na, Große. Wie gehts?" Raimund kept smiling while his daughter remained frozen in place, mouth slightly agape.   
   
Elise's eyes tracked to Oscar and he winked in return. "Going to take Tiny and change her. You two, catch up." He lifted Chloé back to his chest; baby boxing with angry fists against him because she liked the sudden mobility and wanted to be free to move around.  
"Thank you, Oscar," Raimund nodded; a laugh in tow when he saw his granddaughter trying to wiggle free.  
"No problem, Rai." Oscar looked back at Elise, his eyes serious like a few minutes ago, and she knew what he wanted from her. Why her dad was here. A nod to see if she understood, and when she confirmed, Oscar carried Chloé towards the stairs, tickling toes and tummy to make Tiny laugh before heading downstairs.   
   
Elise looked to the floor. Unlike last time - _when joy had replaced the initial shock and had her dash to hug her dad_ -  she remained frozen; a jolt of fear zapping through her bones. He was here. And despite all the signs that he seemed happy to see her, that he wasn't here to judge her, she was scared. He was here and she knew she would have some explaining to do.   
   
A gentle nudge against her chin and she looked up, meeting questioning eyes; warmth replaced with aged worry. "Papa... ich... ich ... es ...," she started, trying to stay composed, but her dad's arms closing around her was all it took to fall apart.   
"Es tut mir so leid, _[I am so sorry,]_ " she whispered once she ran out of tears.   
Raimund heaved his chest and took a step back. "Ich verstehe... warum du weggelaufen bist _, [I understand... why you ran away,]_ " he sighed and Elise drew in her brows, perplexed and shaking her head, gaze back to the floor.  
   
Raimund let out a soft, husked laugh then his face returned to aged worry. "Du siehst aus wie deine Mutter. Dieselben Augen. Dieselben Haare. Derselbe Mund.  Und... dieselben Schmerz gefüllten Tränen. _[You look like your mother. The same eyes. The same hair. The same mouth. And... the same pain-filled tears.]_ " His mouth twisted with the last sentence.   
   
"Papa," Elise whispered, her eyes tracking back up. Shocked at the sight. She didn't think it possible but the wrinkles around his eyes and mouth deepened beyond aged worry. Pain that etched creases so deep, she couldn't help the question that followed. "War mein Vater dafür verantwortlich? _[Was my father responsible for that [those tears]?]_ "  
   
Raimund nodded. "Und ihre Narben. _[And her scars.]_ " His eyes became dark as they trailed over Elise's turquoise scarf, silence taking over for a moment. He knew what she was trying to hide. And she knew that he knew. Her dad wasn't oblivious.   
   
"Ich wusste was für ein Dreckskerl Frank war. Vom ersten Händedruck bis zum letzten gemeinsamen Abendessen. Ich wusste es. Ich wünschte, ich hätte nicht so schnell aufgegeben nur weil ich Angst hatte, dass du mich für immer hassen würdest, _[I knew what type of shithead (lit. dirty swine) Frank was. From the first handshake to our last dinner together. I knew it. I wish, I hadn't given up so easily just because I was scared that you'd forever hate me,]_ " Raimund explained, each word heavy like a confession that was long overdue.  
   
"Papa. Es war nicht deine Schuld. _[Dad. This wasn't your fault.]_ " Elise cut in but Raimund stopped her, holding up his hand in a _//let me finish//_ way.  
"Ich weiss. Und es ist auch nicht deine Schuld, _[I know. And it's also not your fault,]_ " he pointed out. "Aber wenn er mir jemals über den Weg läuft, na dann... dann kann nur Gott mir vergeben. _[But if he ever crosses my path, well then... then only God can forgive me.]_ "   
"Papa!" Elise shook her head in disapproval but Raimund's face stayed serious with such darkness that Elise knew he wasn't kidding.   
   
Raimund heaved a breath, his attention shifting to Elise's left hand, and his face warming up when he saw the tourmaline ring.  
"So. Oscar und du. Hmmmm...," Raimund squeezed his daughter's hand. "Erzähl mir vom Heiratsantrag. Ich möchte alles wissen. _[Tell me of the proposal. I want to know everything. ]_ " His eyes sparked and Elise scrunched up her nose.  
   
She took a seat on the foot of the bed, blushing when she went back to that day. She recounted the moments until Oscar had asked, and how she should've known the minute she'd seen hotel staff carry large bouquets of sunflowers through the lobby.   
She described in detail how the room had looked and the video that Oscar had made, and that he had asked in German. She talked about the concert and hanging out with friends but left out other parts. The red on her cheeks hinted that there had been more after that, though, and Raimund raised a _//I don't want to know//_ brow. With a soft laugh.   
   
Only when she got to the very end of that day, did her face darken, ready to shut down, but Raimund insisted she talk about that, too. Not so much in detail but her version of what had happened, revealing that he had heard everyone else's version except hers.   
Elise stumbled over the memories, close to crying again when she recalled how Frank had tried to pull a knife on Oscar, right after Oscar had fallen to the ground after a punch in the face, right over his left brow.  
   
"Es ging alles so langsam und schnell auf einmal, _[It all happened so slow and fast simultaneously,]_ " Elise whispered. "Aber ohne Oscar... ohne Oscar wäre ich bestimmt tot, _[But without Oscar... without Oscar, I'd likely be dead,]_ " she explained, surprised that she didn't start crying at those words. Maybe she was just out of tears. Or maybe it was because her dad was here.   
   
She sighed and stood up, pacing to the window in the guest room, the view towards the backyard. The sun was still out, creating a shadow play with trees and shrubs swaying lightly in a breeze. She chuckled when she caught a glimpse of Donnie and Danielle playing catch, their mother yelling after them to help set a few rose bushes by an archway that was clearly a separator between garden and yard. A few years and it might look like some enchanted entryway.   
   
Elise craned her neck and saw James readying the grill and fire-pit on the patio below. Long summer night memories were ahead, and despite her earlier wish that it had been just James, Christine, Chloé, and Oscar, she was glad that they all were here now. Her family and her friends.   
   
And suddenly, she felt guilty for not reaching out.   
They cared. Why did she always feel the urge to shut them out? It was like she was running away all over again, except this time it was mentally. And emotionally.  
Logically, she knew the answer. But now that **_he_** - _the monster_ \- was out of the picture, the answer didn't make sense.  
   
She sighed again, then felt her dad staring over her shoulder out the window.  
"Mit Zeit wird es einfacher, _[It'll get easier with time,]_ " he stated with a certain obviousness. Not to patronize. More to let her know that it was ok that things would take time.   
Elise nodded in agreement.   
   
"Komm. Ich möchte dir jemanden vorstellen. _[Come (along). I want to introduce someone to you.]_ " Raimund squeezed his daughter's hand, his eyes smiling.  
"Oh... aber ich sehe furchtbar aus. _[Oh... but I look awful.]_ " Elise quickly tried to fix her hair.  
"Also schlimmer als James und Edgar ist es nicht. _[Well, it's not worse than James and Edgar.]_ " Raimund laughed and Elise playfully pushed against his shoulder.   
   
The noise level on the way downstairs kept getting louder with each step, the house buzzing with chatter. Talk of what's for dinner, what's left to do for the day, and plans for Saturday. A couple of other familiar voices were now added to the mix. Voices Elise recognized as Thom's and Irene's.  
   
"Hey boss," Thom smirked; jeans dirty and hands dirtier. He must've arrived after she had opted to go upstairs.  
"I told you, it's Elise now. --- I see they lured you into helping, huh?" Elise snickered.  
"Richard promised a beer. But don't tell anyone," Thom moved in for a hug and Elise accepted, despite the dirty jeans and hands. Thom scanned over Elise's face, a silent moment settling between them when he noticed her worn eyes. "I still don't think I can call you by your first name. I mean, you and my mom are nearly the same age." He grinned.  
"Oh, you." Elise rolled her eyes then smiled.   
"Thom let's finish pulling the last of the weeds so we can level the ground tomorrow!" Richard yelled from the front door and Thom shuffled out.  
   
"So how did they lure you?" Elise then geared at Irene.  
"They promised to help me pack for the move," Irene smiled, the former colleagues hugging. "Are you alright?" Irene whispered.   
"I'm going to be. With time," Elise smiled thinly and Irene cupped her face.   
"Going to help plant the last of the rose bushes," the architect explained when she turned towards the glass-door leading to the back.  
   
Elise looked after to where Irene was heading, chuckling when she saw Owen play catch with Patricia's kids, encouraging them to shenanigans while Patricia yelled after them to watch out for newly planted shrubs. Despite that, there was joy in Patricia's voice. One that Elise recognized all too well. Owen was good for her BFF and her BFF's kids.  
   
She sighed and refocused back to the inside of the house. Specifically to the open kitchen where Sandra, Edgar, and Oscar were talking,... and a woman who Elise had no memory of meeting but recognized from pictures shown to her. By her dad. Short, a bit roundish, deep laugh-lines, and with long black curls, black eyes, and a round face, she looked exactly like in the pictures.   
   
Elise side-eyed her dad and he smiled widely in return. Then she watched on while Oscar talked. From his hand gestures, she could tell it was about Star Wars. The story of how he'd received the news about his part, his hands motioning like X-Wings while he made zooming noises.   
   
Elise snickered. He had told her the story, too. Back at SDCC, the night she had found out that he was in one of the most anticipated movies of the year. And then again in Montreal, when they had been hanging out with Leon and Ned. And then again backstage at the concert in Walla Walla. And she could tell he had been bursting at the seams to tell people for a while. So she'd let him. Just like right now. The excitement enhanced because he spoke in Spanish.   
   
A nudge on her shoulder and Raimund gestured with his chin to follow.   
Once they reached the small group in the kitchen area, everyone fell silent, and Elise could've sworn she saw her dad blush.   
"Mireia. Esta es mi hija, Elise. Elise. Esta es mi prometida, Mireia." Raimund smiled with a held breath, his cheeks definitely turning a few hues of red.   
"Elise. It's so nice to meet you." Mireia pulled Elise into a strong hug. "I waited so long to meet you. Raimund tells me stories. And now you are here. And you can tell me all the stories," Mireia talked fast and with a strong Catalan accent, her long, black curls bouncing a little with each word. The word spunky popped into Elise's mind. Spunky and smart and pretty, and she could see why her dad had fallen in love with this woman.  
   
"First about you. My dad didn't mention you speak English," Elise smiled.  
"Oh, yes yes yes. In Palamós, we get a lot of British tourists," Mireia looked proud.  
"Oh, I don't doubt that considering that it's central in the Costa Brava. But if you feel more comfortable speaking Spanish, we don't mind. Almost all of us speak. Although, Richard might confuse a few words," Elise laughed.  
"I noticed." Mireia wiggled her brows and Elise laughed, again.   
   
Mireia then walked around the kitchen island and started looking through the cabinets, leaving people a bit perplexed.  
"Mireia. ¿Qué haces? _[Mireia. What are you doing?]_ " Oscar asked with a raised brow.  
"Cocinar para ti es lo menos que puedo hacer para darte las gracias. _[Cooking for you is the least I can do to thank you.]_ " Mireia geared towards the fridge and started pulling vegetables from the drawers.  
   
Oscar dashed and explained that there was no need - _Sandra and Edgar, too, chiming in with protest_ \- but Mireia was steadfast in her endeavor, gently pushing past Oscar to set the veggies on the counter.  
"It's best to let her go ahead," Raimund laughed with a rumble.   
"But you two just got here. You should relax. Long flights. James is starting the grill and the fire-pit outside. You know: sit down... watch the sunset. I can make the side dishes," Oscar argued while trying to push the ingredients towards himself, but Mireia kept taking them back; with a tilt of the head and a raised _//let me get to work//_ brow this time.   
   
"My mom does that, too." Oscar squinted at Mireia.   
"And what does she do when her son does not listen?" Mireia asked, squinting back.  
Oscar gulped.  
"That is what I thought. Now, go and start the rice."   
Oscar stood frozen for a second.  
The _//Go!//_ that followed came with a pointed finger towards the stovetop. One that had people watching the scene unfold fall into laughter.   
   
"Elise, you cook the onions," Mireia said and the room fell silent again.  
"Oh.... uhmmmm... I... I don't ... I don't really cook. I don't know how." Elise's eyes went wide, everyone watching again.  
"Ah... well. I teach you. I teach you. Come here. Let me show you how to cook them right. Come. Come." Mireia grabbed Elise's hand and pulled her towards the counter, and people held their breaths. First when Elise cut the onions, and then when she added the small heap to a pan with heated oil, the sizzling making her jump. "Ok. Good. Good. You see. You stir with the wooden spoon. See how they're starting to look like glass? Now we add the other vegetables." Mireia instructed with a calm voice and Elise did as told.   
   
Elise looked over her shoulder to the small group, everyone present watching with wide eyes and slacked jaws.   
Just then, James barged in, gearing towards the fridge to get the steaks and whatever else needed grilling. "Wow, Mireia! You got Elise to cook? I didn't update my fire insurance, yet. So...," he joked with a laugh and Elise shot him a look.  
"Do not listen. You are doing good." Mireia encouraged. A few more minutes of stirring then Mireia took over to add more ingredients, Oscar still helping as well, Edgar and Sandra washing dishes that weren't needed any longer for food prep.  
   
Elise paced towards her dad, a cold beer in hand. "Ich mag sie _[I like her]_ ," she whispered, squeezing her dad's arm before she handed him the beer.   
"Gut." Raimund sipped on his beer, smiling while he watched Mireia rushing between pans and pushing Oscar out of the way. "Sehr gut."  
Elise peered over, her focus on Oscar, snickering when Mireia smacked his hand because he wanted to try the food for the nth time. "Ah ja? Du weißt aber schon dass du meine, - **unsere** Zustimmung nicht brauchst. [ _Ah yes? You do know that you don't need my, - **our** approval?]_ "   
   
"Das weiß ich. Aber es macht die Hochzeitspläne schon einfacher. _[I know that. But it makes the wedding plans so much easier.]_ " Raimund's nose wrinkled.  
"Wann ist der große Tag? _[When's the big day?]_ " Elise returned her focus on her dad and he met her with eyes sparkling.  
"Wenn du und Oscar uns besuchen kommst, wenn er in Spanien dreht _. [When you and Oscar visit us, when he's filming in Spain.]_ "  
   
Elise didn't say another word. She just pulled her dad's free hand to her face and kissed the back and nodded, Oscar catching the tender moment and ambling their way.  
"Everything alright?"  
"Yes. Yes." Elise smiled. "Going to go outside and see if they need more help. Maybe set up the tables so we can all eat outside."  
   
Elise pivoted to head to the glass-door - _Sandra and Edgar too pacing that way_ \- but Oscar stopped her, holding her hand. He pulled her close and hugged her, smiling into her hair. "Te amo," he whispered, leaving a small kiss on her brow before he let go.   
A soft smirk from Raimund and Elise snickered then she found her way outdoors.  
   
Oscar looked after her for a couple of minutes, lost in his thoughts about the evening.  
"Oscar, can you see if there is trays? If not, we serve the food from the pans," Mireia instructed, pulling him out of said thoughts, nodding to let Mireia know that he had heard.  
   
He was searching through the cabinets when Raimund came to his aid.   
"Elise told me what happened," Raimund started, "but I don't think she told me everything. And neither did you. Tell me this, did Frank... did Frank do things, you know?" Raimund stumbled over the words, unsure how to ask, his gaze dropping to below waistlines.  
   
"If he had, he'd not be alive with only a broken arm and cut cheek," Oscar mouthed from the side.   
"Good. ... Good. Not that it would make me ever think less..." Raimund gulped.  
"I know it wouldn't. None of us would think less, but I think she'd never forgive herself had it gone that far." Oscar stopped his search, Raimund pulling down his brows in concern.   
Oscar squeezed his shoulder. "I won't let anything happen to her. I wish this hadn't happened. I wish I could've stopped him sooner. I'm glad I got back before he could do more. But I promise I won't be this careless again. Ever."  
   
"That's just it. We cannot protect the people we love all the time. It is an uncomfortable truth. All we can do is to make sure they know how to protect themselves." Raimund looked out the door, watching his daughters play with Chloé while Edgar and James set up spare tables, and everyone else cleaned and stored tools and machinery for the day.   
"I know." Oscar hitched a breath, gaze in the same direction as his future father-in-law's.  
   
Raimund side-eyed Oscar. "I know, you'll be there for her. But make sure to take care of yourself, too. You both need to be aware that taking care of yourself is as important as taking care of the other."  
"Is that advice or wisdom?" Oscar chuckled lightly.  
"You see these grays?" Raimund pointed to his head. "It's both." He laughed. "Go help them set up. I'll help my fiancée finish up in here."  
   
With that Oscar made his way outside, catching Elise by surprise when he hugged her from behind before twirling her around only to give her a passionate kiss; her laughing with red cheeks at the jested _//awes//_ that came their way.   
   
Raimund chuckled at the image, him in an embrace of his own because Mireia had snuck up from the side and slid her arms around him.  
"Mi yerno futuro es muy buena gente. Nunca antes he visto a mi hija tan feliz. No desde Joe. _[My future son-in-law is very good people. I have never seen my daughter so happy before. Not since Joe.]_ " He squeezed Mireia tight to his side and she nodded in agreement, Raimund leaving a tender kiss in her curls.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay. Managed to post one more chapter before surgery. Enjoy.

"Go wash your hands!"  
"But I'm hungry!"  
"Go wash your hands!!!"   
"Aaaweeee..."  
   
Elise shot a look and Thom scuttled towards the glass-door, throwing back a sassy "Yes, mother" right before he stepped inside the house.  
"If you keep up with that, no dessert!" Elise yelled after him.   
A loud laugh was the response.  
   
Elise shook her head then took a seat next to Oscar, him smirking at her with a perched brow.  
"What?"  
"Nothing."  
"Then stop that!" She pointed at the brow, but Oscar just nipped the tip of her index.  
   
"Did you guys set a date, yet?" Patricia's voice cut in from across and Elise's face dropped into a frown.  
"No. I haven't really thought about it. Not since...," Elise gulped.  
"That's alright, honey. You take your time," Sandra smiled from the far right, handing a basket with bread to her left.  
Elise smiled a weak smile, Oscar nudging her. He didn't have to say a word. She knew he meant "things will be ok". Then he poured her a glass of white wine, nudging her again when the bread basket reached them. She took a small piece and nibbled away, which made him smile.  
   
 _//Dinner is served//_ took on a new meaning that evening. Family, friends, and former colleagues sat around four tables that had been pushed together to make one large table; the center filled with baskets, pans, and trays, all overflowing with food. Bottles of beer, juice, and wine stood sporadically throughout. Eighteen people, nineteen if little Chloé was counted. And she definitely needed to be counted with the amount of energy she had, throwing tiny carrot pieces across the table and such.  
   
After a long day, a feast was well deserved. Everyone was handing off the baskets, pans, and trays left and right, people piling the foods they preferred onto their plates. Bottles were handed around as well. The first few bites were quiet, everyone taking in the flavors of what had been prepared.   
   
A few more seconds of silence then praises went to the cooks and grill masters, James loudly pointing out that Elise had helped this time around. It was a way to tease her, but she didn't care. "You watch it. One day, I'll cook a whole meal for you all, and it'll be perfect."   
"Yeah? Alright. It's on! How about the Saint Nikolaus meal this year? It's between two major holidays. Nothing too complicated but traditional," James dared with wiggling brows and a wide grin. A moment of silence while everyone stared at Elise.  
The "ok" that followed made them all gasp. Even Oscar.   
   
"I guess I should book cooking classes for you, huh?" He joked.  
"The sofa is pretty comfortable, you know." Elise joked back.  
"Oh, I know." Oscar wiggled his brows in a _//you don't want to get me started//_ way, making Elise blush, and the people at the table shout out a few _//TMIs//_ , the loudest coming from James.  
   
They settled back down to eating and small conversations, Elise peering around from face to face, enjoying this moment. People laughed and shared stories; some of the couples trading the occasional kiss, blushing when they became aware that they had been caught. Patricia's kids built food fortresses before digging in while Berenjena Pequeñita begged grandma for some more food, completely ignoring the cut-up vegetables in front of her.   
The first summer night memories at this house and Elise was glad to be here.  
   
A light squeeze on her hand and her focus trailed to who had interrupted this perfect moment; a set of brown eyes smiling warmly at her. "You ok?" Oscar whispered.  
"Yes. Very. --- Thank you. --- For ... for getting me out of the house," Elise whispered back and Oscar pulled her hand to his lips for an endearing kiss.  
   
"So Oscar. When are you guys leaving for New York?" Raimund's voice came diagonally from the left.  
"Next weekend." Oscar smiled towards Raimund.  
"Good. So you will come back tomorrow and help with the house?"  
"Sure. As long as Liz doesn't mind." Oscar turned back to Elise and she just nodded.  
   
"Just make sure to give Oscar an easy job," Patricia quipped.  
"Did your furniture fall apart?" Oscar raised a brow.  
"Not yet. But you never know." Patricia giggled over the glass of wine in her hand.  
"I see how it is." Oscar pouted.  
"She's not wrong, Lindo," Elise smirked.  
"You wanna start the master chef conversation, again?" Oscar's eyes went wide first then he squinted.  
A stuck out tongue was Elise's response.   
"I'm sure you two will teach each other," Raimund chimed back in, with a grin.  
Oscar laughed, kissing the back of Elise's hand again. "I'm sure we will," he whispered and she nodded again.  
   
More back and forth and Elise returned to silent observation to enjoy this evening. There were talks about finishing the yards this weekend and painting the rooms the week throughout. A few people switched seats so Raimund, Edgar, Richard, Matt, and James could sit next to each other; the five of them clearly holding the seniority regarding construction, renovation, and repairs when they looked over blueprints and supply lists.  
   
Owen, Thom, and Oscar took over dish duty, something Mireia wasn't too fond of.  
"Mireia. We got this. Please. Relax!" Oscar said with a scolding undertone.  
"If you were my son...," Mireia started countering, reaching for the stack of plates in Oscar's hands, but he held tight.  
"Would your son really let you do the dishes after you cooked?" Oscar raised a nearly surprised brow, and this time Mireia gulped. "That's what I thought," he chuckled then kissed Mireia near her left brow.   
   
Elise snickered at the exchange, helping the women move chairs towards and around the fire-pit. "My dad and I haven't had time to catch up, yet. So I feel like I know nothing about you," she smiled at Mireia. "I guess, what I'm trying to say is, tell us about yourself. How many kids do you have? Did you always own a restaurant? How did you meet my dad?"   
   
Mireia giggled at the last question. With a spark in her eyes. "He caught me dressed in my nightclothes."  
"WHAT? I mean... What?... I think I might have to have a word with him," Elise chuckled, a bit of horror in her voice and her expression.  
Maria shrugged it off with a chuckle of her own. "It was pick up day. For rubbish. The staff forgot to roll out the cans. So I had to run outside and pull the cans. Your dad was out for a morning walk. He asked if I need help in horrible Spanish. I told him yes because the cans are heavy. Paid him with a cup of coffee."   
"And a date?" Sandra asked from the side.  
"No," Mireia smirked and the women laughed. "But he came to the restaurant every day for coffee until he left to go home. He did not ask me out or ask me for my number or gave me his. But there was something. I thought there was a something." The last sentence came with a sad undertone.  
   
Elise raised a surprised and somewhat disapproving brow, and Mireia laughed. "No, no, no. Do not think bad of him. He came back two months later and ordered coffee again. But that time, he spoke in perfect Spanish." There was a collective _//awe//_ and Mireia giggled again. "He said he wanted to hold a proper conversation with me. He asked me out a week later. And... I have to say this, I know children do not want to know about their parents' love affairs, but," Mireia peered between Christine and Elise, "your father is a good man. A gentleman. I have not felt like this in a long time."   
   
The sisters smiled warmly and Mireia reached for their hands. "I love your Papa very much. I know he's been alone for a while. Like me. But at our age. When you have loved before for a long time. To meet someone and love again and be loved again."  
"I already told dad this, so I'm telling you, too. You don't need our approval," Elise explained with a soft voice, looking at Christine.  
"Liz is right. All that matters is that you are both happy. And dad is very happy. And you look very happy," Christine smiled.   
   
Mireia beamed, her black eyes sparkling and black curls bouncing as she nodded.  
"So, tell us more about you," Elise encouraged and Mireia did.  
She told of her restaurant. That it was her first husband's, and that she took over when he passed some five years ago. That it was difficult at first but that she got the hang of things fairly quickly.  
   
When asked about her children, she went and got her purse, handing around a few pictures. "My Gabriel and my Sofia," Mireia beamed ear to ear.   
"Do they help with the restaurant?" Judith asked.  
Mireia shook her head. "No. They never wanted to follow their father. He was not upset. He was happy when they went to study. Sofia is a teacher at a school right outside of Palamós. Gabriel will be a doctor soon. He has almost finished his studies."  
   
"Good jobs. Steady jobs. I heard Spain has trouble with the economy," Helen brought up and Mireia nodded.  
"It is very bad. We are lucky. We live in a popular place. The summers are busy. The winters more so because it stays warm. But we can tell, too, people have less money. But we will be ok. People always need food when they travel. So we will be ok," Mireia smiled.  
"I'm sure dad will help. I know him. He says he's going to retire, but I know he won't," Christine pointed out.  
"Oh, he already does. Always fixing things. Now I do not have to call a repairman."  
"See."  
The group laughed.  
   
"What's so funny?" Matt's voice cut in, him carrying a chair.  
"Men!" Was the unified response along with another round of laughter.   
"Remember that we have the dessert." James approached with his chair.  
"And we have a bonafide Spanish cook. I bet Mireia could whip up some Spanish delicacy in no time," Christine countered, rubbing her tummy with one hand while lightly pushing the baby swing with the other; a snoozing Chloé nestled inside.  
"You want me to make dessert? I can make dessert." Mireia jumped up but everyone shouted "no, no, no, it was a joke" in response. She just smirked, throwing out a "tomorrow" in reply.  
   
"So what is dessert in America?" Mireia then asked, sitting back down.  
"For a night like this, it's S'Mores," Oscar explained, holding a large bag.  
"What is a S'Mores?"  
"You don't know?" Sandra asked, shocked eyes and mouth agape.  
"We didn't know either until you showed us," Elise pointed out.  
"How about we just show Mireia," Oscar winked, pulling graham crackers, chocolate, and marshmallows from the large bag, along with skewers. Enough for everyone.   
   
It was always an interesting experience seeing someone make S'mores for the first time. Watching Mireia was no exception. A few times, the marshmallows fell off or simply burned off. Another time the chocolate didn't melt right. But Mireia just shrugged and tried again until she felt that she had made the perfect S'more. "Very sweet," she mumbled. "And sticky."   
   
"That's when you know, they're just right," Thom wiggled his brows and Elise aimed a marshmallow his way.   
"That's my dad's future wife," she scolded.  
"I didn't say anything. You've got a dirty mind," Thom defended with a smirk and more wiggling brows.  
"You do not know a real dirty mind until you turn 50," Mireia stated with such nonchalance that everyone stopped to do a double take.  
An awkward second and gaped stares followed.  
"She's not wrong," Irene spoke up and everyone fell into laughter. Again.   
   
They sat around the fire-pit quite late, laughing, telling more stories, making more plans. And more S'mores. It wasn't until midnight that the large group broke, people who lived in the Seattle area calling cabs to get home. "We'll repay the cost," Christine explained when Thom's cab arrived. Irene had been his lift, but she had had a few glasses of wine, so she needed a cab as well.  
   
The rest of the group split in two. Christine driving the SUV with Edgar, Sandra, James and Chloé as passengers; and Oscar drove James' sedan; Raimund, Mireia, and Elise his passengers.   
   
"Where are you guys staying?" Elise asked her dad over the front passenger seat.  
"The Thompson," Raimund smiled.  
"Wow! That's... that's a nice hotel."  
"Yes. It is," Oscar nodded, keeping focus on the street, but Elise could see his mouth curving upward. She looked back over the passenger seat.   
"How was your flight?" Was the next question.  
"Very comfortable," Mireia answered this time. "A lot of space and we could lie down."  
"I see." Elise didn't ask anything else. She side-eyed Oscar, the wrinkles around his eyes getting deeper as he kept smiling.  
   
They pulled up in front of the hotel and Oscar hopped out to open the doors.  
"I'll pick you up tomorrow. Call me when you're ready, but don't rush or anything. Sleep in, relax, enjoy the little vacation." He hugged Mireia then patted Raimund on the back; the couple smiling while they waved after the sedan when Oscar drove off.  
   
Elise was quiet for the rest of the way home. She gazed out the window, taking in the city. Seattle was different at nighttime. Especially after midnight. A few bars here and there still open. Neon lights getting switched off, though. There must have been a few small concerts at venues nearby as a few larger groups exited buildings. But otherwise, the city was asleep. Hazy silence. And silence meant room for thinking.  
   
Oscar chanced a fleeting glance and saw her still staring out the window. He may not have been able to see her face, but he knew her gears were working. Her silence was enough of an indicator for that. Not that she had been talking much this past week. But with her dad being here, he knew she wanted to share whatever Mireia had told her and maybe whatever her dad had told her before they'd come downstairs for the evening.  
   
"Talk to me, Sweetie," Oscar spoke softly.  
Elise sighed, slowly turning her head to look at him. "Did you pay for my dad's and Mireia's flight and hotel?"   
Oscar heaved his chest. "If I say yes, are you going to pout?"  
"A little. I told you, you don't have to keep doing these expensive..."  
   
"It wasn't just for you." Oscar cut her off before she could finish, sounding a bit offended. "I mean, you're the only one I didn't tell, but this wasn't just for you. It's for all of us. And your dad would've flown out himself, by the way. He said so when I talked to him. He's nearing retirement. Flights and hotels are expensive. I didn't want him to worry about how to pay so he can visit his daughters. His family. And I didn't want him to have to choose to bring his fiancée or not. So I... I helped."  
"Helped?"   
"Rai booked third class seats. I just upgraded them, along with booking a better hotel."  
"Hmmmm" was the only response.  
   
Oscar parked the car and they both got out, the elevator ride up to Elise's apartment quiet. And so was getting ready for bed. She changed behind a locked bathroom door and he changed in the bedroom. When she crawled on top of the mattress a few minutes later with her back to him, he wiggled as close as possible and pulled her towards himself.  
   
"Are you mad at me?" He whispered, his nose at rest on her shoulder.  
She stirred and rolled over, an index detailing his brows. "No."  
"Then what?" That question came with worry creases on his forehead. Worried and a little confused.  
It took a moment to construct the response in her mind. Careful words because she had noticed his tone earlier. "You've done all these things for me, and quite frankly,... I don't know if I can ever repay you."  
   
Oscar sat up, brows drawn tight, so she sat up, too.  
"Look. Don't get me wrong. I appreciate all of it. But ... I don't want you to think you have to do all these big things to make me happy or garner my affection."  
"Garner your affection? You think I'm doing this to buy your love?" There was a definite offended tone to his voice this time.  
"No. Just sometimes, I feel like that that's your thing. To make up for stuff beyond your control. I'm just saying, you don't have to." She tried to explain, but somehow it came out with an accusatory undertone.  
"And I told you before, I don't mind. I'm not expecting anything in return. Ever."  
   
"Are you sure about that?"  
His eyes narrowed for a split second. "What's that supposed to mean?" His voice elevated slightly.  
Her eyes cast down then back up. "James said that that's how Lorraine..."  
"Let me stop you right there before you say another word," his voice laced with an edge that was new to Elise. "First of all, that's a cheap shot right there. Second. Lorraine and I are not the same as me and you. And that you would even compare us...."  
"Like you never do?" She cut him off this time, her own voice elevating. Agitation in the air so dense they both paused for a moment so they could take a breath somehow.  
   
"You know what... maybe sleeping on the sofa isn't such a bad idea after all." Oscar grabbed his pillow. He paused to see if Elise had anything else to say but she sat stunned. At herself and at him. At this whole conversation, if she had to be honest with herself.   
   
He scoffed and took off to the living room and she remained in bed, curling herself into the blanket, silent tears rolling down her face. She cussed at herself internally. _//Stupid, stupid, stupid!//_ What was she thinking? Why the hell right now? He had done nothing wrong. But there was an anger inside of her and she couldn't quite place it. But she was sure it wasn't him. Why was she so damn angry?  
   
She tossed and turned, unable to go to sleep.   
By 3 a.m. she couldn't bear that they had left the conversation like that.  
The faint noise of the T.V. coming from the living room meant that maybe he was still awake. So she tiptoed through the narrow hallway but when she got to the living room, she found him fast asleep. Sitting up, though, remote loosely in his hand, his body halfway covered with the quilt that usually hung over the armrest.   
At least he hadn't upped and left popped into her head.  
   
She inched closer and took the remote from his hand, leaning down for a kiss on his forehead. Right where the vein usually showed up when he was focused or angry or thinking. "I'm sorry," she whispered, pulling the quilt high over his chest, turning off the TV, ready to head back to the bedroom.   
   
Before she could turn on her heel, she felt his hand fold around hers and tug her softly towards himself. "I know you are," he whispered and kissed her wrist. "Come here." He moved the quilt aside and gestured for her to join him on the sofa, so she did, her laying halfway on top of him, between his legs, ear to his chest.  
   
He teased her hair and hitched a sigh. "I really don't expect anything in return. I may have with Lorraine because... because that's how we worked. It was unhealthy," he kept his voice low and steady. "But with you, I don't expect you to say _I love you_ just because I bought something or do stuff for you. I do the things I do and get the things I get because I want to. And I know you'll appreciate them beyond the value the items have. I'm sure I could get you some old rock and paint it and you'd still love it."  
   
She chuckled softly, nodding and pressing her face into his chest. "I know that," she mumbled. "And I'm sorry to have mentioned your ex. I have no excuse really for doing that." Her eyes lifted. "I just want to make it absolutely clear, those big gestures aren't needed. I appreciate them but not as much as I cherish the small ones."  
"Like?"  
   
"Like... you sending me texts in the morning when you're away. Or sending me flowers. Not a lot, but a small bouquet. Or when you leave me notes. Or make me breakfast. Or when you tell me I can do things when I'm scared. Or right now. When you're here for me even when I'm a total prat."  
   
Oscar laughed at the last sentence. "Mi Linda, trust me when I tell you, you're anything but."  
"Hmmmmm..."  
"I mean it. You're not a prat." He caressed down her back and they both paused again.  
   
"Thank you," she whispered.  
"For what?"  
"Helping my dad. He's stubborn, so I know it must have taken some convincing to upgrade everything."  
Oscar chuckled. "I can see where you get it from."  
"Ha ha!" She paused then sighed. "And thank you... for being here this week. And staying for another. I know these two weeks were supposed to be your weeks off. And you wanted to spend time with your friends. But I couldn't... I needed... I just..." she stammered.  
   
"Sweetie," he waited. It was like an unspoken request for her to look up and she understood. "You do remember, I asked you to marry me, right?"  
She chuckled.   
"My friends understand. And what kind of fiancé would I be if I didn't stay and help you through this? Actually, what kind of man would I be?" His brows pulled tight again.   
"But that's what I was trying to get at. You've done so much. Without hesitation. Without being asked..."  
"And I would do it all over again. --- Because I'm in love with you."  
She took a deep breath, whispering _//I know//_ after.  
"Good. Now shut up and go to sleep. According to your dad, we have a long day ahead and somehow that scares me."  
This time Elise laughed.   
   
Oscar woke a few hours later, his body a little stiff from sleeping on the sofa. And maybe a little cold because he woke up alone. He stretched, eyes searching for Elise, just now becoming aware of the sweetened scent hanging in the air. He got up with a groan and ambled towards the kitchen, music playing in the background, but he couldn't quite make out the song. Mainly because he couldn't understand all the words. Some German song with soft piano accompaniment. The pace a little too fast for him to follow and translate along.  
   
He craned his neck to sneak a peek into the kitchen and found Elise behind the stove, about to turn what looked like a slice of French toast, one finger on a cookbook while she read out the instruction. His cookbook. The one he had made for her when he had met her. "Turn when golden brown. How am I supposed to tell if it's golden brown? Lift it?" she mumbled to herself.  
   
Oscar bit away a laugh. The way she was all focused on the task was adorable to him. How she kept poking the slice of French toast. How she ducked her head to see if the bottom was indeed golden brown when she lifted the toast. And how she said _//oooohhhh//_ when she felt brave enough to flip the slice.   
"You can flip it more than once," he said softly and she jumped backward.  
"I knew you were standing there." She held her hand to her chest.  
"You did?" He snickered, pacing closer to her.  
   
She returned to focus on cooking breakfast and he watched over her shoulder, hands on her waist, a kiss into her hair. "I should've probably written that you can flip the toast more than once. It cooks the whole thing more evenly actually, so the bread doesn't get charred."  
"I'll do that with the next one then," she smiled.  
   
He let go and readied the coffee maker. Then set plates and silverware.   
He smiled at the fact that they had found a rhythm. A doing of day to day things without having to ask the other to do them. "I would've made breakfast," he said when he returned to cut up some fruits to go with the toast.  
"You've taken care of me all week. It's my turn." She scooped up the last slice from the pan and placed it on a plate, the same German song playing on repeat for the third time.  
   
Oscar took the plate from Elise's hands and set it on the counter. "I don't mind taking care of you."   
"I know. But I feel like I've neglected your needs this last week..."  
He shook his head.  
"Please let me finish!" Her face lost some of its usual softness and he didn't say another word. She traced over the bruise over his left brow and the cuts on his neck. Everything showing signs of healing. Then her hand went to her own neck and his face dropped into a frown.   
   
She caressed his cheek, a gentle thumb tracing his lips. "I know --- more like I am aware now, that I wasn't easy to deal with this last week. I know you're going to say that I was allowed. But there are two people in this relationship. And we've both been affected. And I failed to see that you needed me as much as I needed you."  
   
She hung her head for a second, grays meeting tired browns when she looked back up. "I'm so sorry that this happened. I know it wasn't my fault, but I'm still sorry because he could've taken you away from me. Or me from you. And I know that you blame yourself for not being there right away, but just like everyone tells me that this wasn't my fault, I want you to know, it wasn't yours either. And all that matters is that we're here. And I am here. If you need to talk. Just like you've been here, waiting for me to talk." She finished with a gulp, standing quietly for a moment, hand still on his cheek.  
   
He kissed into the hand and nodded. "Edgar said we should seek counseling." There was a cautious timbre with that sentence. And a cautious glance over her hand.  
Another quiet moment. This time she nodded. "I agree," she admitted with a heavy sigh.  
"There's nothing wrong with it," Oscar pointed out, voice still cautious.  
"No. There isn't. But... I need a little more time. Just a little more time to process."  
"That's fine. As long as we go."  
She nodded again. Then smiled.  
   
"Let's eat and while we're eating I need you to translate that song for me," Oscar pointed to the radio with the hooked up MP3 player.  
"Oh. Sorry. I forgot. I should turn off repeat."  
"No. Don't. I like this song. Tell me what it's about." He picked up the plate with the French toast and gestured towards the dining room.  
   
She hesitated at first. Another, whispered _//tell me//_ with a folded hand over hers and she revealed the name of the song to be "Demo [Letzter Tag]", explaining how it was about two people: the narrator being the seventh sense for the sought one, the sought one the principle of hope for the narrator. She explained that the singer had been through something similar as she had with Joe. Sudden loss. Lasting grief. And that the song's true meaning is more like a request for someone to step into the narrator's life after tragedy, the narrator hoping the sought one will bring light and hope, and pump life back into the narrator's veins. And in return, the narrator promises to love more than themselves. To share their heart again.  
   
"And that's what you do to me, for me," Elise moused out when she was done explaining.  
Oscar sat with wide eyes, lost for words. At least for a little while. "It's sad and beautiful at the same time," he whispered.  
"Kind of like Cucurrucucú Paloma, but different." She recalled.  
"Yeah. Kind of." Oscar smiled, realization setting in that this was the most they've talked all week without her shutting down.   
   
"I'm going to go get ready. You should check your emails. People have been asking about you. You don't have to tell them anything. Just a quick hello. Especially Mikki. She's worried sick. And Leon." Oscar got up and cupped Elise's face, and she squeezed her hand around his to hold it in place.  
   
Oscar took off to the bathroom. He gave a quick glance in the mirror to check bruise and cuts, all of it healing. For the first time in a week, he didn't feel a rising rage. Just a sense of relief.   
   
He stripped out of his clothes and started the water, getting lost in the warmth running over his body. So much so that her hands slipping around his waist made him jump.   
He caressed over her arms, her still embracing him from behind, trailing kisses across his shoulders while water continued to rush over them.  
   
The embrace lasted until he decided to turn around, his forehead and nose meeting hers before he decided on a careful kiss, his hands slipping to her waist, flattening on her back a second after to press her closer to himself. Skin against skin. No gaps. Because he had missed this. Missed her that way.  
   
Careful kisses turned to careful tongue searches, and before she knew it, he'd nudged her to turn around, guiding her arms to rest against cold tile while he teased between her legs. Careful fingers while he placed endearing kisses across her shoulders. Gentleness because they both needed gentleness.   
   
Even when he pushed in, he remained gentle. Just tender movements to get soft sighs from her while he rested his forehead between her shoulder blades and she rested her head on her arms.   
   
Even when he picked up the pace, he remained gentle. Soft hands caressing over hips, soft lips cascading kisses down her spine as far as he could reach while staying inside. More soft hands playing with whatever they could reach.  
   
And even when he became desperate for release, he remained gentle. All the way until her hand shot back to his stomach and her legs trembled. Only then did he allow himself to let himself go. With a bite onto her shoulder and a strong grip on her hips, a satisfied moan escaping deep from his chest.  
   
He kissed between her shoulders, again, then she straightened out and turned around, combing her fingers through his wet curls, and he pulled her closer to rest his cheek on hers, occasionally kissing the spot closest to his mouth.  
   
It wasn't until the water ran cold that they decided to wash and rinse off each other's bodies; both moving quickly because when the water turned cold, it turned freezing cold.  
   
She opted to get dressed in the bedroom with him this time, watching him, noting a couple more healing bruises on his back and chest. He caught her staring and made his way to where she was standing by the closet, and just before she slipped on an old shirt, he leaned in and kissed over the bruises around her neck.   
"Those will heal," he stated, pointing to hers then his own bruises.  
"I know."  
"For the other ones, we'll get help," he tipped his index between her brows.  
"Yes. I know."  
"Good. Now go, email your friends, and I'll check to see if people are ready so we can get going."  
She nodded and made her way to her office, and he sighed, a smile following after because he noticed that she had tucked a picture of him in the bedroom mirror.   
   
A picture she must have taken when she had visited him in Montreal the last time. Right when she had arrived. He couldn't explain this picture of him in an awkward sleeping position otherwise.   
   
He searched through his bag, a sharpie in his hand a moment later. "Can't wait to snap pictures like this of you. _*devil horned smiley face* *heart*._ " Then he made his way to the dining room, chatting on his cell while clearing off the table, smiling when he heard her typing away in her office.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for the long wait. It's been a rough couple of months.  
> I've got a long treatment path ahead of me so chapters will continue to get uploaded in sporadic patterns.  
> I really do appreciate your continued support.  
> <3

“Can you take me here?”  
“Sure. Anything specific you’re looking for?”  
“I need ingredients for Crema Catalana.”  
“Mireia. I told you. You don’t have to cook for us.” Oscar opened the door to the sedan, taking the paper with the address from Mireia’s hand while waiting for her to get into the car.  
“And I told you, I will make desserts today.” Mireia’s eyes sparked with fierceness. She got in and buckled up, aiming a raised _//let’s go//_ brow at Oscar when the door to her side remained open.  
  
He, in turn, held a breath. A bit of fear in his eyes. He shook his head with a soft laugh and shut the passenger door then made his way to the driver’s side, typing the address into the Navi once he settled into his seat.  
“I can’t wait for you to meet my mom.” He peered into the rearview mirror, eyes on Mireia. “But I’m also a little scared,” he laughed and Mireia giggled in response.  
  
“We can’t wait, either.” It was Raimund who spoke this time, sitting in the back next to Mireia with his hand folded over hers. “Will she visit you in Spain? When you film?”  
“I’m not sure, yet. It depends if she’s up to traveling long distances.” Oscar’s face dropped to sadness for a second. But only a second. Unnoticed by Raimund and Mireia.  
He was grateful for that. He wasn’t ready to tell more people.  
Not yet. Not while still waiting for answers.  
  
“Well if she does, she’s more than welcome to stay with us. You can visit her on breaks and she can enjoy a vacation,” Raimund smiled warmly towards the rearview mirror.  
Mireia nodded in agreement. “She will like Spain, I am sure. Good food, good people. And she can teach me... what country was it? Guatemala?”  
Oscar nodded this time.  
“Yes, she can teach me Guatemalan dishes,” Mireia smiled. “Especially desserts.” Mireia wiggled her brows.  
  
Oscar held another breath, another flash of sadness behind his eyes. Again, only for a second. “We’ll see,” he smiled, but only because he wanted to hide the thoughts invading his mind.  
He finally put the car into drive, following the path the Navi had laid out.  
Then he felt a hand slide over his, a thumb caressing tender circles into his skin while his hand rested on the gearshift.  
Elise’s hand.  
Elise’s thumb.  
  
He chanced a fleeting side-eye and she offered an understanding smile because she was the only person who knew. Other than his siblings that was; all of them in agreement to keep things between them for now. At least until they had some answers. At least for another week or so.  
  
They pulled up in front of a large specialty market, Mireia already unbuckling her belt before the car was even parked. Oscar chuckled.  
There was an impatience to Mireia. Not a bad one. More like excitement. Maybe influenced by the fact that this was Mireia’s first trip to the States and she had never seen an American market.  
  
Oscar side-eyed Elise. “Were you like that?”  
“Maybe.” Elise snickered, memories of her first stateside shopping trips on recall.  
“She totally was,” Raimund smirked over the seat.  
“Papa!”  
Raimund laughed.  
  
The four got out, Mireia already a fast ten paces ahead of them and gearing for the shopping carts.  
“Mireia, there’s no rush. Take your time,” Oscar called out, speeding after Mireia.  
They traded squints then a laugh, Mireia cupping Oscar’s face with one hand just as a mother would. “You help me get these.” She stuffed a paper into Oscar’s hand and he - _stunned at first, then amused_ \- accepted that he had just become Mireia’s personal assistant. “You two get the drinks!” Mireia then geared at Raimund and Elise.  
  
“On it,” Elise chuckled, getting a second cart, gesturing for her dad to follow towards the alcohol section. “They have your favorite beer.” She pointed at the imports and Raimund nodded with a warm smile, lifting a box into the cart.  
“Should be enough,” he smiled, again.  
  
Elise took lead towards the wine shelves and Raimund followed quietly, watching his daughter when she stopped in front of the reds. She ghosted several different labels with her fingertips, quietly reading the names, a few sighs in between. A quiet heaviness and Raimund took notice.  
“Alles in Ordnung? _[Everything ok?[more lit. Everything in order?]]_ ” he asked from the side.  
  
“Was? _[What?]_ ” Elise stopped in her pursuit of the perfect wine. Clearly, she’d been deep in thought. She looked at her dad confused for a second, and he, in turn, took on a tall and serious stance.  
“Zwischen dir und Oscar? Alles in Ordnung? _[Between you and Oscar? Everything ok?]_ ”  
“Oh... Uhm... Ja. Wieso fragst du? _[Oh... Uhm... Yes. Why do you ask?]_ ” Elise returned to reading over labels but Raimund stopped her with a gentle hand on her shoulder.  
  
“Weil ihr beide so traurig ausseht. _[Because you both look so sad.]_ ” He waited.  
Elise drew in a long breath. She never could keep things from her dad. He always was the observant type. Always knew when things were off. Although it was rare that he pointed it out. “Versprich mir das du niemanden was sagen wirst. _[Promise me that you won’t tell anyone.]_ ” Elise waited this time.  
  
Raimund nodded in agreement and Elise looked past him to see if Oscar and Mireia were nearby. When she didn’t see them, she refocused on her dad. “Oscars Mutter... Wir wissen noch nicht genau aber wir glauben sie is krank _. [Oscar’s mother... We don’t know for sure, yet, but we believe she’s sick.]_ ” Elise whispered.  
“Verstehe. Ich nehme mal an ihr wartet auf Ergebnisse. _[Understood. I’m guessing you’re waiting for results.]_ ” Raimund waited, again.  
  
Elise’s eyes cast down and Raimund sighed. He lifted her head by the chin, waiting for her eyes to follow suit. “Wir sind immer für euch da wenn ihr uns braucht. Für dich, Oscar, UND seine Familie _. [We’re always there for you if you need us. For you, Oscar, AND his family.]_ ”  
“Ich weiss, Papa. Es ist nur... Bis wir genau wissen was los ist..., _[I know, Dad. It’s just... Until we know for sure what’s going on...]_ ” Elise paused.  
Raimund nodded again. “Ich weiss, Große. Ich weiss. _[I know, eldest. I know.]_ ” He kissed the top of Elise’s hair and she smiled, if somewhat wearily.  
  
Just then Elise spotted Mireia rushing between the aisles, Oscar following at fast pace, pushing their cart, and reminding Mireia that they had plenty of time. It was just a flash of the two passing by but even so, Elise saw that there was more than just ingredients for Crema Catalana in the cart. “Ich mag sie sehr, _[I like her a lot,]_ ” She snickered and Raimund turned red at the ears.  
  
An hour later, they drove up to Redfield Manor, a couple of large trucks already in the driveway. One filled with more topsoil for the front yard, the other with various bricks. Another outside type of workday was ahead.  
  
Oscar parked the car then helped Mireia carry the bags to the house. Raimund, on the other hand, paced towards Edgar, James, and Richard, and, as usual, they greeted each other with bear hugs. Then they looked over whatever plans laid out on top of Edgar’s F150.  
  
Elise peered around and noted the same cars taking up space as the previous day. She ventured the women were out back, still setting plants and shrubs or finishing whatever they didn’t manage to finish the night before. That, or they were talking about their men behind their backs. There was laughter coming from the house, after all.  
  
Another quick scan to get an idea of how much was left to do in the front and Elise was ready to head inside to see if Oscar needed help. She internalized a laugh. Like he needed help. Another chuckle and she pictured Mireia already giving fast orders in Spanish and Oscar abiding with sassy backtalk.  
  
Not two steps towards the main door, a screeching Donnie halted Elise’s plan to make her way indoors. The boy dashed towards her, Danielle following closely behind, both kids wearing yellow hard hats and orange safety vests, the gear way too large on them. Elise chuckled and shook her head, bracing herself for impact with hands on hips.  
  
“Give it back!” Danielle shouted.  
“No. It’s my turn!” Donnie reached Elise and took refuge behind her.  
“What’s going on?” Elise tried a stern face but to her this sibling squabble was amusing, her own childhood coming to mind.  
  
“Uncle Richard told to measure the trees and he gave us a measure... a measure... a thingy and said to share it and she doesn’t wanna share and she says she’s the boss but she’s not.” The words were fast. So fast, Donnie had to take a deep breath when he finished.  
“Yeah, well you’re doing it wrong! You’re supposed to hold the tape in a straight line and you’re making it all squiggly! And uncle Richard said to measure right!” Danielle pointed at her brother then at the trees.  
  
“Alright. ALRIGHT! Stop it! First, let me see the measuring tape. I’m going to show you both how to use it properly. And second, why does uncle Richard have you measuring trees?”  
“For a tree house” was the synchronized answer.  
“Figures.” Elise laughed. “Tell you guys what. Let’s get my dad to help us. He knows how to pick the right tree. And then you two will take turns measuring trees.” She perked a brow, waiting. A few grumbles later the kids agreed, Donnie handing the measuring tape to Elise.  
  
The three made their way towards the truck where the men were going over the plans, Elise snickering at the fact that Matt, Owen, and Thom were sitting on the sidelines behind one of the trucks, waiting for whatever the _//elders//_ were going to instruct.  
“Hey. You guys mind if I borrow my dad? We need help finding a good tree or two for a tree house.”  
“Not at all.” James smiled, hugging Elise close when she was within reach. “Glad you’re back.” He kissed into her hair.  
“Hmmm... glad to be back.” Elise smiled, if still somewhat wearily.  
  
There was a short silence. A warm one. One she very much welcomed. A quiet understanding that if she didn’t feel up for anything, no one would be mad. A quiet reassurance that things would be ok.  
James hugged her closer, another peck in her hair and a whispered “we love you” with serious eyes, then his lips curled upwards and he chuckled.  
“So Oscar is in the kitchen?” There was a slight mock to James’ voice and Elise rolled her eyes.  
“Someone has to cook for the troops.”  
The rumbled laugh that followed merely an agreement to the statement.  
  
Lunch was a come-and-grab-if-you’re-hungry, sandwiches and sodas [and beer] type of affair.  
Elise sat with the women, all of them laughing over whatever they were talking about. Occasionally they stopped, encouraging a still wobbly Chloé to crawl on the soft blankets they had laid out for her. The pride on Christine’s face was undeniable the way she kept taking picture after picture of Berenjena Pequeñita; baby improving steadily with each forward movement.  
  
Even James couldn’t help a wide smile as he watched on from a distance; Oscar sitting next to him, each nursing a beer, nibbling on sandwiches in between; the other men also taking breaks, some taking a much-needed nap in the shade. Namely Richard, Edgar, and Raimund. The true _//elders//_.  
  
“You know,” Oscar paused to finish a bite; a light chuckle tacked on when he peered around to figure out who was snoring, eyes coming to a stop when he found the culprit: Raimund. “I never got to thank you.”  
“For what?” James pulled down a questioning brow, eyes still on his wife and Tiny.  
“For keeping things out of the press.”  
  
James hitched a breath, a chuckle in tow. “Well, it’s not all my doing.”  
Oscar’s head jerked back around, a surprised “Oh?” slipping out.  
“Hmmmm... Bit of an incident at the concert. Marcus threw a mic stand into the audience.”  
“Are you serious?” Oscar’s eyes went wide.  
“Not on purpose. I think he kind of lost track. Maybe one too many beers.” James laughed softly. “But even so... I’d have fought teeth and nails to keep it out of the press.” The agent’s demeanor suddenly shifted. Dead serious posture. Dead serious face. “More for her than you.” He pointed with his chin towards Elise, and Oscar nodded in understanding.  
  
His eyes tracked to Elise, his body tensing when he glimpsed the slowly fading bruises around her neck, his fingers reaching for the bruise around his left brow. “Will she have to face him? In court?”  
“You mean testify? Most likely,” James admitted. “You, too. And me.”  
Oscar shook his head, rage crawling into the pit of his stomach. His jaw clenched, hands tightening to painful fists. “I don’t want to see her in any more pain.” His lips became thin and his eyes dark with anger.  
James pushed a breath through his nose. “None of us do.”  
A long pause to calm nerves and they each took another sip from their beers, finishing their sandwiches in silence.  
  
Another pushed breath from James then he glimpsed Elise pacing their way.  
“I’ll let you know when and if you guys need to be there. Kyle is sitting in with the D.A. We’ll make sure Frank will never get near any of us ever again,” he assured Oscar before Elise was within hearing range. He got up, stretching away the midday lull that usually came with lunch, a reassuring nod geared at Oscar.  
  
“Hey. Looks like the guys are ready to set the front yard,” Elise smiled, pointing with her chin to the large group. There was movement now. The men - _groggy from lunch and short naps_ \-  joined the women, significant others sitting with each other, all eyes on Mireia who was clearly telling some exciting story the way she moved hands and body while talking.  
  
“Also, Christine wants another apple juice,” Elise scrunched her nose, following that with a wink.  
James took the hint, grabbed a juice, and made his way to the group; Mireia pausing her story to acknowledge James’ arrival with a big smile.  
Elise chuckled at the sight, taking a seat next to Oscar. She was quiet for a moment, eyes fixed on her family and friends. A picture perfect moment and she was aware. “What did you two talk about?”  
  
“Who?”  
“You and James.” Elise shifted her attention to Oscar.  
“This and that.”  
Elise’s eyes narrowed for a second, and Oscar knew she’d not let this go.  
“We talked about us likely needing to testify.”  
Elise’s lips twisted at the thought, her hand going to her neck, but before she could reach it, Oscar slipped his hand into hers, pulling her hand towards himself.  
  
“Don’t let him ruin this. Not today, not this week. Not any day.” Oscar kissed her hand.  
“It’s not that easy for me.” Elise’s lips trembled. “I’m so angry,” she whispered. "And scared." She leaned her head on Oscar’s shoulder, and he could feel her composure crumbling.  
His arm slipped around her waist and he gently squeezed her close. “I know, Sweetie. And that’s why we need help, because I’m angry, too. More than I want to admit,” he confessed.  
She nodded into his shoulder, sobbing quietly, and he kissed her hair.  
  
“Come on, you two lovebirds,” Thom called their way, unaware of their tender moment.

Elise chuckled under silent tears, secretly wiping them away with her shirt before she stood up. “Lovebirds, huh?” She made her way to the group.  
“Yeah, lovebirds.” Thom wiggled his brows in mischief. That stopped immediately when he saw Elise’s reddened eyes. He mouthed a sorry to his former boss, puppy dog eyes in tow, but Elise just playfully nudged his chin. “Still sorry,” Thom whispered in a side hug and Elise whispered an “it’s ok”.  
  
“So Helen, have you had a chance to ask my brother-in-law, yet?” Elise diverted.  
“Ask me what?” James’ eyes shot up from watching his daughter.  
“Oh. Uhmmm... uhmm.. ok so I know you guys just bought the place, ... and you have twins on the way,... but uhm... well venues...”Helen stammered.  
“She wants to know if we can use your place for our wedding. Ceremony and reception.” Matt was more forward. “We’ll pay of course. It’s just, the venues we’ve been looking at...”  
“Say no more,” James grinned ear to ear. “What date did you have in mind?”  
“June 21, 2016?” Helen shied out.  
  
“Ok. I’ll mark the calendar. Of course, you need approval from my boss.” James chuckled, peering towards Christine who in turn squinted at her sister.  
“I’m sure Elise won’t mind watching the babies since I’m sure this was her idea.”  
“Eh... I’ll need practice sooner or later,” Elise shrugged.  
Silence.  
All eyes suddenly on her.  
She paused a sip on her soda when she registered what they were all thinking. “Oh my god. No! I meant for the future. Geez. You all need to stop that.” She shook her head in disapproval and everyone started laughing.  
  
The day was long this time around. Mainly because James was stubborn to get the front yard set. A few times, Elise scolded the lot for Richard to take a break. His heart had only just been fixed and she didn’t want him to overdo it. When the men didn’t listen, Judith stepped in. Flinched stares at loud words and the men did as told.  
  
“Sometimes, you gotta to put the fear of God in them,” Judith laughed. “Or at least make ‘em think you’re that powerful.” The realtor winked at Elise when they returned to the kitchen.  
“So that’s the secret,” Oscar spoke up from behind the island.  
“Your mother used that technique on you, huh?” Judith laughed, again.  
“You better believe it.” Oscar nodded wide-eyed.  
  
Elise quirked a disbelieving brow.  
“Sweetie. Trust me. My mom might look tiny and fragile but I always knew when to tone it back. She didn’t even have to yell. All she had to do was give me the look, and me, and Mike, and Nikki, too, knew to stop or else.”  
“From the stories, I’ve heard, I don’t blame her.” Elise teased.  
“Hey now!” Oscar flicked a blueberry her way, and she just laughed.  
  
“You know, your Papa told me stories,” Mireia snickered while caramelizing some sugar.  
A loud “Ha!” echoed through the kitchen in response, and Elise jerked around to find the owner to be none other than her brother-in-law.  
“Don’t get cocky. Red truck,” Elise warned with a squint and James’ hand shot to her mouth.  
  
“You mean... my red truck?”  
James gulped, his eyes widening in horror while he slowly pivoted around.  
“You know, the one that’s on the bottom of Elmer Lake. Or well, at least it was on the bottom of Elmer Lake.” Edgar stood crossed armed in the living room.  
“You ... You know about that?” James’ jaw dropped. He glared at Elise and she shook her head.  
“I didn’t tell him!” She defended.  
“Well shit, if you didn’t...” they both looked at Oscar.  
“It wasn’t me!” Oscar raised his hands.  
Elise and James traded another look. “Joe?” They asked in unison.  
  
“It wasn’t any of you,” Edgar paced to the fridge, grabbing a bottle of cold water. “Did you guys seriously think no one would notice a red Ford on the bottom of a lake? Especially during summer time? You know. When people go swimming and diving,” he smirked.  
“So... so you’ve known all this time?” Elise gasped.  
“I have.”  
“And you never...”  
“... thought about saying a word? Nope. I was kind of hoping, you’d all tell me one day.”  
“Tell you what?” Raimund now joined the group, him, too, getting a cold water. In fact, the rest of family and friends now trickled in, all of them waiting to hear what was going on.  
“Remember my old Ford?”  
“The one the kids sank into the lake?”  
“That very one.”  
  
“Papa, du hast auch davon gewusst? _[Dad, you also knew of this?]_ ” Elise gaped between her dad and her father-in-law.  
Raimund boomed out a laugh. “So do I owe you or you me?” He then geared at Edgar.  
“You owe me. They didn’t tell me on their own,” Edgar smirked.  
“You guys bet on if we would tell?” Elise’s voice squeaked in disbelief, and Raimund and Edgar just shrugged, Raimund handing Edgar a fifty.  
  
“This family just got a whole lot more interesting,” Oscar gaped, then fell into laughter. This time Elise flicked a blueberry. Several in fact while Oscar kept laughing.  
“Can’t wait to be part of the dad club,” he quipped, and everyone once again paused.

This time all eyes on him.

“Well... I mean... not for a while... not until we’re married,” he backtracked in panic mode, his focus back and forth between Elise and Raimund.  
“Hmmmm,” Raimund hummed with a squint; Elise rolling her eyes at him, following with a firm “Stop it!”.  
  
The day ended with pizza and Crema Catalana and more stories, some of which had Oscar stare at Elise with some fear. “I feel like my siblings and I are nearly angels compared to you two,” he geared at the sisters.  
“Oscar, you don’t know the half of it.” Raimund laughed and Elise scrunched up her face. She got up and helped with the cleanup.  
  
“I’m just teasing.” Raimund pulled Oscar into a strong, arm-over-the-shoulder side hug. “The girls were a handful but at the core, they always knew right from wrong. They always stood up for those who needed help.”  
Oscar’s gaze trailed towards Elise, his brows pulling down like he didn’t quite understand a few things.  
“She wasn’t always this scared,” Raimund now whispered. “She was tough and she was brave. She’d fight people twice her size if it meant protecting her friends.”  
  
“Then how did she end up...?” Oscar gulped, unable to even finish the question.  
“I don’t know. I do know that the how doesn’t matter. Frank took advantage because all he saw was a hurt, young woman who was lonely. Easy prey. And maybe she was... because she was in pain for such a long time. ... But she isn’t anymore. Especially with us paying better attention now.” Raimund squeezed Oscar’s shoulder in a tight grip, his face serious, almost cold.  
“I would never,” Oscar replied, face just as serious.  
“I know.” Raimund nodded. “But can you blame me for pointing it out anyways?”  
Oscar chuckled quietly, the tension between the two men waning. “No, sir.”  
Raimund lifted an amused brow. “That’s reserved for Edgar if anyone. Just make sure you don’t use it sarcastically.” Raimund advised.  
Oscar sat wide-eyed for a second, and Raimund boomed out another laugh.  
  
Sunday was already in the early hours by the time Elise and Oscar got home.  
There were content sighs when her body fell onto the mattress. She didn’t even wait for Oscar to change so she could watch. She just let herself fall onto cool sheets and soft pillows. She was tired but in a good way.  
  
A quiet snicker against her shoulder a few minutes later pulled her from the edge of falling asleep. “Are you still laughing at the whole truck story?” She rolled over.  
“I am.” Oscar snickered more, groaning when a pillow came flying against his chest. “I’m teasing, Sweetie. I just think it’s funny.”  
“I still can’t believe my dad knew.” Elise curled an arm and leg around Oscar and he squeezed her close.  
“Hmmmm... he’s pretty good at finding out secrets.”  
“How so?”  
  
Oscar drew in a long breath, his fingers combing through Elise’s hair. “Well, I didn’t tell him about my mom.”  
Elise’s body flexed. “I’m sorry. He... he kind of knew something was wrong.” Her eyes tracked to Oscar’s.  
“Figured. So tell me, are there any more big secrets I should know about?”  
Elise shook her head no. “You?”  
Oscar also shook his head no.  
  
Breakfast that particular morning was slow. Mainly because the couple got up late. There was no need to rush anyways. The main reason James had pushed to get the front yard done on Saturday was so people had Sunday for themselves.  
  
Elise pondered what her dad and Mireia had planned. Her answer came sometime around two in the afternoon. A couple of knocks on the door and Raimund greeted with a warm smile and a bouquet of sunflowers.  
“I thought we were all supposed take a day off.” Elise gave her dad a teased suspicious look. Somehow this felt like a bribe.  
“And everyone is. But I do not have much time. Just this week before we fly back and I’d like to get a few things done.” Raimund waited by the door.  
  
Elise tilted her head for him to enter, searching past him when she realized that he had come alone. “Where’s your fiancée? You didn’t leave her alone at the hotel, did you?”  
“We’ll pick her up on the way to the store.” Raimund grinned knowingly.  
  
Elise led her dad to the dining room, getting a vase for the bouquet.  
“The store, huh? I guess, I better let Oscar know.” She set the flowers on the table.  
“No need,” Oscar turned the corner to the dining room, already fully dressed.  
“I thought, you didn’t have any more secrets.”  
“I don’t. It’s a surprise.”  
“That's just a fancy word for secret.” Elise stood with her arms folded.  
“If you say so.” Oscar pulled her close by the hips. “Go get ready,” he whispered into her ear with a kiss behind her lobe, the two darting apart when they felt a set of eyes staring at them, but only Elise blushed.  
“Sorry, dad.” She scurried.  
  
By three, they pulled up in front of the Thompson [hotel], Mireia already waving their way. Another twenty minutes and they stopped in front of a large store; big, colorful block-letters spelling out the words   _//Once Upon A Time//_.  
Raimund smiled even wider.  
“A baby store?” Elise looked between her dad and Oscar.  
“Yes. So we can buy your sister everything she needs for the twins.” Oscar smiled.  
“Hmmmm... are we at least going to split the cost? You know: fair and square?”  
“Promise.”  
  
A bit of hesitation from Elise then they entered the store.  
Elise had no idea that babies needed so much stuff. She looked around, confronted with displays of cribs, baby swings, changing tables, strollers, and endless shelves and racks with clothes, diapers, baby wipes, bottles, shampoos...  
“Geez. Where do we even start?” She ran her hand over a dark-stained crib.  
Even Oscar seemed a little overwhelmed the way he ran a hand through his curls.  
  
“Usually couples set up an account for a baby shower and make a list of all the items they need,” a sales associate spoke from behind.  
“Oh... uhmmm.. no. No. It’s not for us.” Elise side-eyed Oscar. “It’s for my sister. She’s expecting twins.”  
“I see. Is she a first-time mom?” The associate asked.  
“No. Uhm. She has a daughter. But she’s expecting boys this time.”  
“So she already has a few items then?”  
“Uhm yes. I know she has one of those.” Elise pointed at a large changing table. “And she has a bassinet. My brother-in-law will get another one.”  
  
“Good. Well, let me show you around and then you guys can choose what you think she might need. Let me start off right away with this. Since your sister is expecting twins, it might be good to start with the everyday essentials. She’ll be needing a lot of diapers,” the sales associate chuckled and Elise followed with wide eyes, Oscar right behind her, hands on her waist; Raimund and Mireia a few steps behind them.  
  
“Babies grow fast, so if you’re buying clothes, pick only a few from each size. Double of course in your sister’s case. The same goes for the diapers. Otherwise, she’ll be stuck with things they’ll never use.” The sales associate showed them different brands while leading them around the store. “For the cribs, make sure the mattresses fit snugly. Now I know, I ought to be selling you things, but don’t get blankets.”  
“Oh? Why?” Elise was surprised at the candid advice.  
“It’s because it’s safer for babies to just sleep on the mattress without anything around,” Oscar explained from behind, his hands still on Elise’s waist.  
“That’s right. And on their backs. Baby monitors, on the other hand, might be a good idea,” the sales associate grinned, and Oscar nodded.  
  
Elise peered around again, still wide-eyed.  
“I’ll let you guys choose. For the big items, just take a ticket and bring it to the counter, and when you’re finished we can coordinate a delivery day.” The sales associate nodded then left their side to help another customer.  
“So we start with the essentials?” Elise was still unsure how to begin.  
“Sure.” Oscar smiled.  
“I think I already know what cribs we should get them,” Elise smiled an abashed smile as she took lead towards the baby clothes.  
“I figured,” Oscar chuckled.  
  
The small group spent a good three hours at the store, Oscar snickering whenever Elise found something else worth checking out.  
“There is so much stuff for babies now,” Mireia giggled. “I remember when I used cloth diapers for my babies. Oh, the mess.”  
“And glass bottles. And washcloths.” Raimund chuckled as he inspected a bottle warmer. “At least you two won’t have to worry about buying stuff,” he directed at Oscar and Elise.  
  
“Papa!” Elise scolded.  
“Ich sag ja nur. Bin mir sicher das deine Schwester dir das alles irgendwann weitergeben wird. _[I’m only saying. I’m sure that your sister will hand all this down to you at some point.]_ ” Raimund smiled.  
“Das wird sehr helfen. _[That’s going to help a lot.]_ ” Was a stop and go reply with soft, rounded Rs and Ws, but it wasn’t Elise who’d said those words.  
  
There was a short pause. Both  - _Raimund and Elise_ \- pivoted towards the voice, both standing a bit agape when they found Oscar smirking their way. “Did I say it wrong?” His brows went up.  
“Seit wann sprichst du fließend deutsch? _[Since when are you fluent in German?]_ ” Elise questioned, mouth still slightly agape.  
“Michael hat mir unterrichtet.” Oscar smiled with pride.  
“Hat mich unterrichtet.” Elise corrected with a palm hidden laugh.  
Oscar pulled her close and kissed into her hair. “Close enough,” he chuckled.  
“Hmm... Du und deine Geheimnisse.” She wrinkled her nose, eyes searching to see if he understood.  
“What’s that word?”  
“Which one?”  
“You said “You and your”. What’s the last word?”  
Elise leaned in. “Secrets.” She whispered into his ear and Oscar smiled.  
“I prefer the word Überraschung.” He stated, again with soft, rounded Rs.  
“That’s just a fancy word for secrets.”  
  
The group made it to the register, at last, three shopping carts in tow; Oscar dividing tickets, him clearly holding a bigger stack when he finished sorting through.  
“You promised fair and square.” Elise tried to take the tickets from his hand but Oscar held tight.  
“Fair and square to income.”  
“Oscar!”  
“Look...” He leaned in, lips close to Elise’s ear. “How about even between you and me, but fair and square towards your dad. There’s easily a couple of thousand dollars and that’s not including the essentials,” he whispered, stepping back, serious browns meeting serious grays.  
“Deal!” Elise whispered back and Oscar resorted the tickets and essentials.  
  
“A lot of stuff.” The sales associate smiled when she rang them up.  
“Only the best for my nephews.” Elise smiled back.  
“Do you think all this can be delivered by Friday?” Raimund asked over the others, a bit of worry in his voice. The sales associate nodded reassuringly.  
“Except this.” Elise pulled a box with large dinosaur blocks from the pile. “Going to give this to my niece on Monday.”  
  
The new week rolled in with plenty of to-do lists for each room at Redfield Manor. Since former colleagues and friends had regular jobs, the only ones at the house now were immediate family. And Richard. And that’s because he had finally turned in his retirement pack and seemed to have nothing better to do.  
“You need to take it easy,” Elise kept reminding her former boss. “Or else Judy will kick all of our asses.”  
Richard rumbled out a laugh. “I am taking it easy. Trust me, all this is way more relaxing than what I had to deal with at the company.” His face settled to a frown for a second.  
“I can imagine.”  
  
The largest task was painting the rooms. For that, everyone shooed Christine out of the house. Chloé, too.  
“The paint says low fumes. And I have a respirator mask. And the windows are open.” Christine protested but to no avail.  
“Sorry, Schatz. But to be on the safe side. ... You should rest.” James gently nudged his wife towards the backyard, Berenjena Pequeñita in his arms.  
“I’m not an invalid.”  
“I know that, Sweetheart. But it’s not just the paint. We’re installing new fixtures. Things could fall on you.” James kept nudging.  
“I know more about construction than Oscar!”  
“Yes. And he’ll get a crash course in safety!" James perked a brow. "Sweetheart, please. Relax. Play with Chloé. The playground is all fixed. I bet she’d love the swings. Or take a walk near the water.”  
  
“Or we can plant strawberry plants,” Elise chimed in with a diplomatic choice. “I was going to ask you if we should already set them, so they’re ready for next year.”  
Christine sighed then conceded.  
“Don’t worry, Schatz. I’ll make sure to paint the walls neon green and navy blue,” James joked. A death stare had him run back inside. With a laugh.  
  
“Sometimes, he can be such an ass.” Christine rolled her eyes.  
“They all can be.” Elise pointed out and Christine agreed.  
They set the strawberry plants in neat rows, always an eye on Tiny who seemed to have gone from barely able to crawl to crawling champion overnight.  
“Geez. They learn fast once they know how.” Elise looked after her niece.  
“They sure do. I don’t even know how I’m going to handle her when these two arrive.” Christine rubbed over her tummy.  
“We’ll be here.” Elise smiled.  
  
“You’re not moving?” There was definite surprise in Christine’s voice.  
Elise shook her head. “I don’t know. Maybe. Maybe not. I ... I don’t know.”  
“What’s going on?”  
“Nothing.”  
“Liz. Out of all the people.”  
“I don’t know. I said yes. And not even a minute later, I questioned if I’ll ever move. And I just... I feel like we’re rushing. And yet, I've never wanted to move as fast with anyone as with Oscar. This feels right and yet it feels insane. Ugh... I feel like a fool.” Elise’s shoulders slumped with the last sentence.  
  
“You’re not a fool. You’re in love. Granted it makes people do foolish things, but you’re not a fool. Stop doubting things.”  
“It’s not just that. Frank...”  
“Stop! Look, I get it. It sucks. And I’m sorry that that asshole hurt you. But Frank isn’t part of the equation. It’s you and Oscar. Not you and Oscar and Frank... and ... even Joe.” Christine cupped her sister’s face. “It’s you and Oscar. And as long as you’re there for each other when it matters most, everything else will fall into place.”  
Elise just nodded.  
  
Time flew that week: painting, installing fixtures, finishing up the yards. Before any of them realized it, Friday crawled in. The delivery truck from _//Once Upon A Time//_ arrived in the early hours; Raimund, Mireia, Richard, and Elise accepting the goods while Oscar had taken James, Christine, Sandra, and Edgar to get more groceries.  
“Those are some nice cribs.” Richard ran his hands over the spokes.  
“Yes, they are.”  
  
The delivery guys helped set up the baby furniture in one of the kids’ rooms, Elise quickly stashing away baby clothes, diapers, and other essentials. It was made clear from the get-go that the boys would share a room once they would arrive. According to what James had read, twins did better that way. So the cribs and other furniture were put in one room. Anything not fitting into the closet was stored in the spare room.  
“Looks good.” Elise rubbed her hands in a job-well-done way. She tipped the delivery guys on the way out, and they left just on time, Elise spotting James’ sedan coming up the driveway right when the delivery truck exited.  
  
“Who was that?” James hopped out of the car.  
Elise just shrugged her shoulders.  
They all made their way inside, and just before Christine reached the staircase, Elise stopped her.  
“Ok, so you guys have to follow me, and when we get up there,” she pointed to the bridge, “you’ll need to put these on,” she handed her sister and her brother-in-law blindfolds.  
“Why?”  
“Because I say so. And so does dad. And Oscar,” Elise tilted her head.  
  
“What did you guys do?” Christine squinted.  
“Look. Just shut up and do what I say.” Elise took lead upstairs, everyone else following close behind. They stopped at the bridge and James and Christine put on the blindfolds.  
“Just to let you know, this was dad’s idea. So I don’t want to hear any complaints,” Elise snickered as she led the couple towards the family bedrooms.  
  
She drew out the suspense by walking extra slow then counted to three, pulling off the blindfolds at the same time.  
A moment of stunned silence. Then tears. “Papa...” Christine rushed to hug her dad.  
“It wasn’t just me.” Raimund gestured with his chin to Oscar and Elise.  
“You guys... this is way too much.” James shook his head as he ran a hand over a green-blue double stroller. "Way too much," he repeated, taking a seat in a rocking chair situated between the two cribs, stoic posture replaced by happy tears.  
“Well. We’re going to be around, but not as much as Sandra and Edgar. So this is a way to make up for it,” Oscar stated matter-of-factly.  
  
“Did you choose the baby clothes?” Christine held up onesies in neutral pastels.  
“Some of them.” Elise smiled.  
“And the baby wash?”  
“Maybe.”  
“I think, we won’t have to buy diapers for a while.” James pointed to the open closet.  
“Or baby wipes.” Christine laughed.  
  
“It’s not like being here,” Elise frowned when realization set in that once again she wouldn’t be around as much, the trip to NYC just a day away, and the stay in Spain starting just two weeks past that.  
“At least this time, I’ll know where you are,” Christine cupped her sister’s face, and the two hugged.


	5. Chapter 5

He left a desperate kiss on her neck, his arms flexing against cold marble; one of her legs trapped between his, the other slowly slipping from his waist. His head came to a rest on her shoulder and she weaved her hands through his curls, sweat collecting at the edges of her fingers.  
  
Their breaths slowed, and she could feel him smirk through the fabric of her shirt. “So... this is the kitchen,” he mumbled and she laughed.  
“I gathered as much,” she kept laughing and he joined in; his laugh raspy with exhaustion.  
  
He nosed her shirt in search for an edge where fabric met skin, and when he found one near her neck, he placed soft kisses. The kind he knew would reward him with breathy moans from her.  
  
She weaved her hands through his curls one last time. A gentle tuck and his eyes tracked to hers. “So this is the kitchen,” she repeated his own words back to him, and they both laughed, again.  
He stood up tall, pulling up briefs and jeans, somewhat straightening out his shirt, then he helped her off the island, watching her as she pulled on her own panties and jeans. With a smirk, which earned him a push against his chest.  
  
“So this is the kitchen,” he snickered. “And living room.” He swayed his arm towards the large, open room. “And dining area.” He smiled. There were no distinct walls separating kitchen, living-, and dining areas. Just the floors and furniture were an indicator where one ended and the other started.  
  
Elise peered around, perking a brow. Boxes stood between and on sofa, love chair, and living room table, several guitars leaning almost carelessly against the wall near the TV. The dining section was covered in tarps, paint cans and brushes standing atop.  
“Sorry about the mess. I think I told you I’m renovating a bit,” Oscar smiled and Elise hummed in confirmation.  
  
He took her hand and led her back to the entrance of his one-bedroom apartment. “Let me give you a proper tour.” He wiggled his brows.  
“We tried that already.” She countered.  
“Hmmmm... yeah. I know.” He pulled her close by the waist and gave her an open-mouthed kiss, the warmth of his tongue against hers making her sigh.  
She stepped back and pressed against his chest. “See what I mean.”  
“Alright. Alright. For real this time.” His nose wrinkled and she rolled her eyes. With a snicker.  
  
“Ok, so this is the entrance.” He sassed.  
“You don’t say.” She sassed back.  
He chuckled. “To your left is the coat closet, then a vanity, a guest bathroom, and the washer and dryer.” He pointed opposite the coat closet.  
  
Elise walked in the round, sticking her head into the guest bathroom’s door before moving on to the closet that hid washer and dryer.  
“This is a one-bedroom?” She asked.  
“Yes.” Oscar nodded.  
“So why a shower in the guest bathroom?”  
“I actually don’t know. Never bothered to ask when I got the place. It was in my budget, close to things I like." He shrugged. "I was thinking about finding out if the building code would allow changing the shower so I can stack washer and dryer there. Open up an extra closet for storage. Maybe for you?” He smiled.  
  
“Hmm... well you already have cold and hot water access..., and a drain. But you’d need a special outlet with a circuit breaker for the dryer and a vent. I think one of the walls is outward facing so... that... should... What?” A raised brow made her stop in her track.  
“I keep forgetting that you know about this stuff. Maybe I should let you renovate the place.” Oscar’s brow stayed raised, a hint of a smirk behind his eyes. Teased mockery.  
  
Elise folded her arms at the chest. “Considering that you don’t even know to check for lines before drilling a hole into a wall, I’m surprised you haven’t gotten shocked, yet.”  
Oscar squinted and so did Elise. “This is going to be interesting,” he laughed. Again. “Now come here. I want another kiss.” He curled his fingers into the edge of her jeans, and she unfolded her arms.  
  
“Onwards,” he whispered when he pulled away.  
“Onwards." Her cheeks flushed redder than they already were.  
  
“Now - to the right is my office.” Oscar opened a white double door, and Elise realized why there were boxes in the living room. The office’s floor was covered in tarps. More paint cans and brushes standing in one of the corners and two large boxes in another. “A new desk. And a new corner shelf. I was also thinking about installing a running shelf all the way around at the top edge. For books and uhmmm... other things.” This time Oscar's cheeks seemed to flush.  
  
“Other things? You mean Lego sets.” Elise’s nose wrinkled.  
“Uhm. Yes.”  
“And action figures.”  
“Maybe.”  
“Awards.”  
“Those I plan on putting next to the coffee machine.”  
“To show off to your guests?”  
“To remind myself to keep improving.”  
  
Elise lifted a surprised and impressed brow. “That’s a good reason.” She smiled softly, inching closer to Oscar, hands reaching for the back of his neck. This time, she wanted a kiss.  
“It sure is. ... Showing off comes third.” He wiggled his brows just as she was about to lean in.  
“Oh, you.” She pushed him away at his smart-assery but he had already closed his arms around her.  
Kiss secured.  
  
He let his hands fall to her hips then he nudged her out of the office, her turning in his hold at some point.  
“You’ve already seen the kitchen.” He smirked. “At least the island.”  
“Mmmmhmmm. Should probably clean that off before we forget.” She snickered when she felt him kiss the back of her neck.

"We'll do that later." He placed another kiss and she hummed.

"Kitchen and living room and dining room," she whispered, sighing when his lips didn't leave her skin. "Oscar..."

"Yes. Yes. Living room and dining room." He let go of her and paced to the dining section, but she stayed behind. “I was thinking... We could get rid of the table and chairs. Or maybe store them in the basement. We have seating by the island. I think it’s plenty for the two of us.” He paused.  
  
There was a sudden shift. A hint of seriousness in his posture. Like he wanted to make sure he chose his next words with great caution. “Maybe... Maybe make this corner your office?” He paused again, eyes on her to gauge her reaction.  
She smiled then made her way towards him. She did a three-sixty, taking in the size of the section.  
It was spacious.  
Bigger than her home office back in Seattle.  
Bigger than her home office, dining room, and kitchen combined, actually.  
  
“Or we can share my office.” A slight tremble in his voice a sign that maybe he had overstepped. After all, her moving in still seemed in the balance. But she had opened up her place for him, so he felt he should at least do the same for her.  
  
“No. No... this is perfect.” She did another three-sixty, eyes tracking slowly over the living room.  
“We can get room dividers. Or I can have rolling walls installed. Kind of like they have in hotels. In those large conference rooms. Whatever you want,” he whispered, his eyes still studying her.  
“That sounds like a great plan,” she smiled and he sighed softly in relief.  
  
“Now. The most important room is behind that door.” He pointed towards a closed door on the opposite end from where they were standing.  
“Ah yeah? What makes it so important?” She waited, head tilted like she didn’t know the answer.  
He inched closer to her, hands back on her hips when he closed the gap between them. “Let me show you,” he whispered, his fingers on the edge of her jeans again.  
“Like you showed me the kitchen?” She whispered back.  
“Oh yeah.”  
  
Clothes came off this time. In a haphazard trail.  
Her jeans first.  
Then his shirt.  
Then her shirt.  
His boots.  
His jeans.  
Her bra.  
Briefs.  
Panties.  
Socks.  
  
She laughed when she fell backward onto his bed, him tumbling on top of her. Even more so when he pulled the blanket tight over them and teased her sides with gentle tickles.  
“Stop! Oscar, please. I need air.” She wheezed. “Please. Sto ohhh huh, god fuck...” Her head fell back and her eyes lost focus; tight fists twisting sheets for leverage.  
  
He had stopped alright. Attention now on those spots that got him the loudest moans.  
Fingers over tender lines. Mouth in curves, sucking in skin.  
He knew exactly how to get those moans.  
And this time, it was at his place.  
In his bed.  
  
He’d be lying if he said he hadn’t been looking forward to this moment.  
To finally have her around in his home. His things.  
Not just for moments like this but to see her first thing in the morning and last thing at night. Curled up with a book or watching T.V. or just laying there, next to him.  
Next to him in his bed. At his place.  
  
Theirs now, if he had to be completely honest with himself.  
Not his or hers but shared spaces.  
Like in this moment. The shared space their bed.  
  
He bit into her neck and she whimpered.  
More desperate kisses. More desperate than earlier.  
Almost his whole weight was on her now because he needed to feel her close.  
Muscular density pressing her into the mattress, which she repaid with sharp nails down his back.  
  
“So close.” He mumbled under heavy breaths. “Sooooo close.” He crashed a kiss onto her lips.  
A muted moan.  
A rumbled exhale.  
The last of his weight dropping on her when he came, her own body relaxing under him, legs falling to the sides.  
  
She didn’t care that she had difficulty taking in a breath.  
At least not right away. But him lulling into sleep and he seemed even heavier.  
“Lindo.”  
“Mmmmhmmmm.”  
“Kind of crushing me.”  
“Mmmm Hmmmm.”  
“Schatz.”  
“What?” He lifted his head, a heavy-lidded gaze meeting her eyes.  
“Crushing me.” She glanced down her own body.  
  
“No. The word you just said.”  
“You’ve been friends with my sister and my brother-in-law and you’ve never bothered to ask them what it means?”  
“I know it’s a pet name. But you know. Pet names can be personal.”  
“I see. Well, if I tell you, will you move.”  
“Maybe.” He mumbled against soft skin, trailing kisses across her breasts.  
  
“Oscarrrrrrrr!”  
“Ok. Ok., I’ll move.” His eyes were back on hers.  
“It means treasure.”  
“Hmmmm... you’re my Schatz, then.” The words were mumbled again, lazy kisses detailing her collarbone.  
“Thought I was your nerdy Erdbeere.”  
“Hmmmm... yes. That too.” His weight seemed to shift even more onto her.  
“You promised."

He snickered.

"Oscarrrrrrrrr!”  
He laughed then slipped off to her right; one of his legs staying curled over her; one of his arms, too.  
  
He pulled her closer, his nose burying into her arm. “I’m so glad, you’re finally here.” He drew in her scent, trailing more kisses over soft skin.  
“Me, too.” She sighed contently. “So this is the most important room, huh?”  
He chuckled, propping his head on his hand. “It is.” He played with a strand of her hair falling over her face.  
“Why?”  
“Because.”  
“Because what?”  
“You’re here,” he whispered, leaning in for a kiss.  
  
“Was I invisible earlier?” She laughed softly.  
“Nope.”  
“Then why?”  
“Because.” His eyelids became heavier. “Because you’re here.”  
She internalized a chuckle. “I think you’re tired, Lindo.”  
“Hmmm...” His head swayed, arm giving way, and he was out.  
She internalized another chuckle, but even she admitted defeat to the onsetting post-travel, post-love lull.  
  
She woke not even an hour later, the warmth she had felt earlier not quite the same. She squeezed her eyes shut, muttering a “fuck” then hurriedly found her way to the master bathroom. “Dammit!” She cussed through gritted teeth. “Today? Really?! This couldn’t have waited one more night?”  
  
A knock on the door and she squeaked out a “Yes?”  
“You alright in there?” Oscar asked from the other side.  
“Yup.” She searched through cabinets, coming up empty. Of course, he wouldn’t have what she needed.  
“You sure. You kind of sprinted to the bathroom.” He chuckled.  
“Yeah, well, if you had this problem, you would too.” She hissed, wrapping a towel around herself.  
“Sweetie. What’s wrong?”  
  
She groaned and opened the door to a half-foot wide gap. “That time.” She frowned.  
“Oh... Oh right. Yeah... it is the end of the month, huh?”  
She rolled her eyes, somewhat annoyed. Not necessarily at him. In general.  
“Oh-kay.” He gave her a lopsided smile. “Do you have stuff?”  
“In my purse but it’s not going to be enough. Didn’t pack any in the suitcase. Forgot.”  
“Ok. Uhm...” He glanced at his watch. “ It’s almost dinner time. I’ll run to the store, grab your stuff, and pick up dinner on the way back?”  
  
“You don’t...”  
“Sweetie. Not a big deal. Just text me what brand you want. Maybe a picture of the box or whatever, and I’ll get it.” He waited for a response and she nodded.  
“Could you... bring me my purse and my carry-on before you leave?”  
“No problem.” He hurried, taking less than a minute. “Text me, ok?”  
She nodded.  
“And if you’re taking a shower, be careful. The water gets hot fast once you move the lever past seven.”  
She nodded, again, then watched him get dressed.  
A wink and a mouthed “text me” and she closed the door.  
  
She messaged him before she hopped in the shower, and he replied with a “Got it.”  
Thirty minutes later, she stood refreshed in the bedroom, pulling off sheets and pillowcases, inspecting the mattress before heading to the washer and dryer. “Well this is a great way to start a new life,” she mumbled to herself while pre-treating sheets. She scrubbed like her mother had shown her way back when then tossed everything in the washer.  
  
She made her way back to the bedroom, two suitcases in tow, opening the closets right before the master bathroom. One was for linens, the other a spacious walk-in closet. She laughed at the fact that his suitcases from Montreal laid scattered across the floor; clothes spilling out as though he had pulled his favorite outfits to take along for the next trip, for when he had surprised her in Walla Walla. 

She scanned around, and just as she thought, he had opened up a section for her.  
“Use as much space as you need” had been scribbled on a sticky note and tacked onto an empty hanger.  
  
She smiled.  
She took the note and tucked it into her journal then snooped around a little; running hands over his shirts and his pants; opening drawers to the small dresser in the back corner; trying on hats stacked on a shelf. She snickered, looking in a mirror. There was a possibility of her borrowing a hat now and then just to tease him.

  
She opened her suitcases and contemplated if she should hang up his cardigan - _THE cardigan_ \- in her section, wondering if he’d try and sneak it into his.  
A glance in the mirror and she opted to wear it. Just in time, it turned out. She heard the turn of his keys then a thud.

“Honey, I’m home.” His voice carried an amused undertone like he’d been waiting to say those words. “What’s for dinner?” He snickered.

Her head came to view between bedroom door and frame. “I thought you were going to pick something up.”  
“I did. I was just teasing.” He gave her a slow once-over when she stepped into the living room and she blushed. “Feeling better?”  
“Yes. And cleaner.” She turned a few shades pinker.  
“Awe. Sweetie. I’m telling you, it’s not a big deal.”  
“I know. Just ugh... “ she groaned, then finally paced his way. “ So what did you get?”  
  
“Pie.”  
“What?”  
“Pizza.” He laughed.  
“Right.”  
“It’s a New York thing.” He grinned.  
“So is arrogance.” She quirked a brow.  
“Damn, Sweetie.” He pretended offense and she laughed.

"Now I'm teasing." She took the pizza box from his hands then they made their way to the kitchen. 

“Got you your stuff. Hope it's all the right things. Also cookies, chocolates, and strawberries. And ... heating pads.” He pulled a box of pre-packaged heating pads from a bag.  
“I’m sure, I’ll be needing one of those tonight.” She frowned with a sigh, searching through the cabinets while he watched.  
  
“Last one, next to the fridge.”  
“You don’t even know what I’m looking for.”  
“The plates, right?” He walked up next to the fridge, opening the cabinet, taking out two plates.  
“Maybe I’m thirsty.”  
He opened another cabinet next to the first one and grabbed a couple of wine glasses.  
“Maybe... maybe I wanted Cheetos.” Her voice went up in pitch.  
He laughed and opened a door below the island. “Secret stash.” His brows wiggled with mischief.  
“Where are the chopsticks?”  
“In the drawer right above.”  
She shook her head, amused; him kissing into the curve of her neck. “Let’s eat,” he whispered.  
  
They sat by the dining room table, her still peering around every so often. She’d been told that he owned a one-bedroom. That it was a little cluttered. What she didn’t know, or more like got wrong, - _and this was due to her own assumptions_ \- was how big his place actually was.  
  
Each room seemed twice the size of her apartment’s. The living room more than that. Only the master bathroom matched in size, which was a surprise to her. Other than that, the apartment was pretty big. She had always assumed New York accommodations were shoe boxes. Clearly, she’d been proven wrong.  
  
She eyed the living room, line of sight now on the TV. She hadn’t noticed it before but there was a large crack in it, pieces of the screen missing. She must’ve cringed because next thing she knew, she felt his hand fold over hers.  
“I’ll toss it on Monday. That’s when they pick up bulk.”  
Her eyes stayed on the TV, and he had a feeling there was something else on her mind. He squeezed her hand and she looked at him. “I lost my temper. I... I’ve never lost my temper. Well... never is not right. Not like that. We were both yelling. She... she said something about my mom, and I threw her picture through the screen. It was a shitty thing to do.”  
  
Elise nodded, then waited quietly.  
“I apologized. I truly was sorry for having lost it like that. I know I scared her, but I walked out after that. To cool down. When I came back, she was gone. Left to stay with a friend.”  
Elise still sat quiet, focus on the table, processing information.  
Oscar studied her face and squeezed her hand, again. “I never laid a hand on her. I wouldn’t dare ever touch a woman like that.”  
“I know,” Elise whispered.  
  
“I think I know that you know. But ... I mean ... words are words. And actions are actions. What I did was shitty. If... if we ever reach a point like that...” he gulped, eyes weary, mouth arching downwards at the corners.  
She palmed his face and he held his breath. “We’ll take a break.” She waited, again.  
“Yes. Yes.” He pulled her hand to his mouth, kissing the back. “And then talk when minds are calm.”  
She smiled softly.  
  
She grabbed a second slice. And more wine. “This is good pizza.” She grinned.  
“Right? I have to be honest. I missed New York style pizza. I mean real New York style.”  He chuckled, a bit of arrogance in the way he tilted his head, him also on his second slice.  
“We should travel to Trieste. You’ll never want other pizza again,” she snickered.  
“Ah yeah? Hm... we should go there then. For our honeymoon.”  
  
She paused a bite. “Right.” Another pause. A long one. “I ... I still can’t believe... I mean... I guess we have to start planning soon. I mean... I mean set a date.” There was a slight hint of panic in her voice.  
He drew in a long breath. The exhale lasted even longer.  
“I’m sorry.” She moused. “I’m happy. I mean that. I just need to wrap my head around it all.” Her eyes became wide.  
He got up, chuckling, then collected plates and wine glasses. “I think our parents need time to adjust as well.” He pointed out.  
  
“Maybe yours. My dad already offered to help with the dress.” Elise’s eyes became even wider.  
Oscar laughed wholeheartedly. “He wants only the best for his daughters.”  
“I know that." She paused, thinking. "That brings me to a really important issue.” A change in posture and Oscar stopped rinsing dishes. All attention on her. “I know my dad. And he will be stubborn. But this is going to be my second wedding. He... he already paid for two. My first one and Tina’s. He’s traditional like that. Believes in old customs. And I think, we should adhere to a few, but I do not want him paying for things.”  
  
Another pause. More from Oscar than Elise.

“I agree.” Oscar returned to rinsing dishes. “Same goes for my parents. I know my mom. She’ll want receipts. And she’ll likely coax answers from Mike.”  
Elise grabbed a towel and started drying. “Why are parents so stubborn?” She huffed then they both laughed.  
  
The alarm for the washer went off, and Elise went to toss the load into the dryer.  
On the way back, she noticed a trapdoor in the ceiling. “You have storage in the ceiling?”  
“What?”  
Elise waited then pointed to the ceiling in the hallway when Oscar turned the corner from the kitchen.  
“Ah. Was hoping you’d notice that. Let me show you.” He paced to the coat closet and retrieved a hook with a long handle. Some jiggling and the trapdoor opened, a decently sized hideaway staircase slowly sliding down. “Good thing you’re wearing my cardigan. It does get chilly at night.” He smiled.  
  
He took lead and she followed. She reached the last step, scanning around, eyes adjusting to low light. They seemed to be standing in a shed-like structure. Not overly spacious, but she did notice shelves and a small locker.  
  
“Sorry. The bulb needs replacing. I’ll do that next week.” The wrinkles around his eyes deepened with a widening smile. That much she could tell. “We missed the sunset, but the view is just as pretty at night.” His hand was on the door handle. “Also, uhm. This space is kind of not pretty.  Haven’t updated any of it since I moved in. And the plants. Kinda dead.” He chuckled awkwardly.  
  
He took hold of her hand and opened the door, slowly leading her outside onto the roof. “Welcome to New York.” He kissed her temple and she stood mouth agape.  
“Holy shit.” A gasp followed those words.  
“Nice view, huh?” He laughed softly at her reaction.  
“I didn’t realize you lived so close to Manhattan.”  
“Hmmmm... it’s still a bit of a distance. If you walk that is.”  
She paced towards the stonewall edge, hands on the wall and looking down then around. “This is amazing. You can see all the way to the Empire State.” She peered around some more, searching.  
  
“You’re not gonna be able to see it from here.”  
Elise tilted her head in a _//I don’t know what you’re talking about//_ way, but she knew that he was aware of what she was searching for.  
“I’ll take you there tomorrow.” He kissed into her hair, arms sliding around her waist from behind.  
  
She stood quietly for a few minutes then sighed and he took notice. “What’s wrong?”  
“I know... I said I wanted a small wedding,” she whispered. “And I still kind of do.” She halted.  
He nudged her shoulder with his nose for her to turn in his embrace. She did. Some hesitation in the turn. And in how long it took her to look into his eyes. “I mean. I don’t want expensive things. I don’t want like crystal chandeliers and gold laced whatevers. And I don’t need a designer dress.” She halted again, and he waited patiently. “I want my family and my friends there. And that alone is like twenty-three or twenty-four people. And I was thinking,... I kind of want to invite Olivia, and Sophie, and Leon, and Ned.”  
  
“And Fassbender and McAvoy, I’m guessing.” Oscar grinned.  
Elise nodded, her lips curling to an embarrassed kind of smile.  
“I can forgo all the parties Americans seem to have. You know. I don’t need a bridal shower. I don’t think we really need a rehearsal dinner. The venue can be super simple. But I want my friends there. Including new ones.” She shied out her ideas, looking down.  
  
He nudged her chin up, warm smile meeting worried grays. “Sweetie. I don’t mind. Large or small wedding. If you want a court wedding, we do that. If you want an elaborate church wedding, we do that. If you want all your friends there, then that’s what we’ll do. If you just want us and a couple of witnesses, we’ll do that. Whatever you want.”  
  
She pulled down her brows. “You need to stop saying that it’s up to me or whatever I want.” Her voice laced with some annoyance.  
His chest raised and he took a step back, unsure how to respond.  
“I get it. You want me to be happy and that’s noble. But it’s us. Joined decisions. Look. I ... I don’t want to compare. I don’t know, and I don’t want to know, how you worked things with Lorraine. But there are two people in this relationship. And if you keep saying it’s up to me, I’m worried that I’ll make a choice one day that you won’t be happy with. But you’ll grit your teeth and smile through it. I don’t want that. It... it leads to resentment. And anger. And ... I don’t want that. I want us. And that means you telling me your ideas and if they’re completely different, we compromise.” She finished and looked back down.  
  
He was silent for a moment then his hands slipped into hers. She looked up, worried he might be upset. Instead, she was met with warmth. “It’s going to be a big wedding.” He chuckled. “But,...” he kissed over her fingertips, “I want you to have a bridal shower or whatever you do to celebrate in Germany.” His eyes sparked like he knew something.  
Elise pondered. It took a few seconds. “What did my dad tell you we do in Germany?” She quirked a brow.  
“He mentioned a word. I can’t remember it. But it’s a tradition. He said people bring plates and sometimes gifts.”  
“You mean Polterabend.” Elise snickered.  
  
Oscar’s brows shot up at the recognition of the word. “Yes. That. We should do that.”  
“You do realize that we * _she pointed at herself then him_ * are supposed to clean up the mess. So if we have a lot of guests...” she couldn’t finish the sentence. He had planted a laughed kiss.  
“Then we’ll clean it up.” He laughed more and so did she. He caught his breath and pulled her close for another kiss. This time with held breath, because... she was finally here. At his place. Their place, now.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've never been to NYC, so hopefully I got at least the trains right.

He woke up to the scent of coffee and cinnamon.  
Flexing, he flipped over, one-eyed squint searching for her.  
He frowned. The first shared morning at his apartment and she was nowhere to be seen.  
  
He sat up, a tired hand running through his curls as he yawned. He grabbed his cell from the nightstand, perplexed when he read the display.  
6:17 a.m.  
August 30, 2015.  
SUNDAY.  
  
He checked the display again. Maybe he had read wrong.  
The numbers still showing 6:17 in the morning. The day still Sunday.  
The fact that Seattle was three hours behind and their internal clocks were still adjusting seemed to confuse him even more.  
Especially since it was, indeed, Sunday.  
  
He sighed then chuckled. He had a pretty good idea why she had gotten up this early, but he’d only know for sure if he got up now.  
He dragged off the bed towards the walk-in closet, pulling on shorts and a t-shirt, then made his way to the hallway, cell phone in hand.  
  
He paused, shaking his head in amusement. His assumption was confirmed at the sight of the pulled down hideaway staircase. He made his way up the stairs as quietly as possible, stopping at the door. He peeked out the small window in the door, and sure enough, there she was, standing near the stonewall edge. In his cardigan and back to him; cell in her hand and ready to capture the moment the sun would crawl up the horizon to start a new day.  
  
He watched quietly through the window from behind the door. Some movement revealed that she had brought a cup of coffee with her. She took a quick sip, setting the cup back onto the stonewall edge, focus back on her cell.  
  
He set his own cell to camera mode, taking a step back, the small window in frame with her in the background, and, like her, he waited. He continued watching her through the display of his cell, chuckling when he noticed her body tensing at the first sign of sunlight falling between buildings and trees.  
  
He waited some more.  
She seemed content and he didn’t want to interrupt the moment just yet.  
A couple more minutes. Time to let her finish her coffee. Time to let her soak up some rays in silence. Then he finally opened the door.  
The creak due to some rusty hinge drew her attention towards him.  
  
She snickered at the sight of him.

Not only were his curls the most out of control she had ever seen on him, but permanent bedroom eyes were nearly an understatement this morning. Top it off, he wore a color combination she’d never seen on him before.  
Washed out, blue shirt and red shorts.  
  
She had to do another once-over, still snickering. This was him at his truest self. No care about what he wore or how he looked. Just him. He never really cared anyway, but she ventured that for his trips he only ever took along what his stylist suggested. So now she would get a taste of what he really wore at home or even for a quick run out the door.  
  
He rolled his eyes at her continued half-laugh but internally he was glad to see her in such a good mood. “You do know it’s Sunday, right?” He grumbled with a twisted mouth.  
The snicker turned into a full-on laugh. She meandered his way then threaded her hands through his hair, fingers coming to a rest on the back of his neck. “Awe. Oscar, the grouch.”  
  
“I’ll show you grouchy.” He squeezed her towards himself and bit her neck. “Hmm... grouchy, grouchy, grouchy.” Each word rumbled out under a nibbled kiss and she nearly screeched.  
“Stop it!”  
“No!”  
“Oscarrr!”  
“No! You left me alone in bed. I nearly froze to death.”  
“Did not!”  
  
Her hands came to a rest on his chest, and they stood silently with a lingering gaze on each other. “It’s actually a good thing we’re up early.” He conceded. “We won’t have to rush.” He smiled.  
“Does it get busy?”  
“Hmmm... usually yes. But we’re just about to hit the offseason. So there might be fewer people. Gotta ask before I get the tickets. You wanna go all the way to the top?”  
Her eyes widened. “You can do that?” She sounded genuinely surprised.  
He laughed. “Yes, Sweetie.”  
“Then yes!” She beamed.  
  
Suddenly, there was a fidgeted excitement. She bounced ever so lightly on the balls of her feet, which made him laugh again. “Let’s go!” She swayed a bit from side to side. An impatient excitement and he loved it.  
“Breakfast first.”  
“Awe... but... but...”  
“No but. Breakfast first.”  
“Meh.”  
  
They sat by the kitchen island, chowing down on oatmeal with half-thawed blueberries. He didn’t have much of anything else since the milk had expired and other foods had become sort of unrecognizable. “I should’ve told A.J. to get groceries.”  
“A.J.?”  
“Mmmm hmmm. Downstairs neighbor. And friend. We have jam sessions now and then.” Oscar pointed to his guitars. “You’ll meet him this week, I’m sure. He usually holds my mail for me.”  
  
Elise stared at the guitars then finished her food. “You know, you always brought your guitar, but you never played. At least not at my place.”  
“That’s true, huh? Well, I had other priorities.” His lips pulled to one side. “But if you want me to play for you, I will.” He smiled but there was a hint of something else on his face. Not necessarily embarrassment. But it was something.  
  
She couldn’t quite place it but she guessed that she had brought up something that was very dear to his heart. Something he didn’t mind sharing but didn’t share with just about anyone.  
Her gaze trailed back to his guitars. “Hmmmm... you don’t have to play your own stuff if you don’t want to. You can play a cover like you did at my sister’s promotion party.”  
Elise eyed Oscar from the side. The way his lips curled on the left corner revealed that that was likely his concern.  
  
“I’m not shy or anything, playing music and all.” His smile waned. “But some of the stuff I’ve written...,” He gulped.  
“Is personal?”  
“Mmm hmmm.”  
She scooted closer to him and gently cupped his face. His eyes seemed between pensive and sad, and suddenly it dawned on her what some of his songs were likely about. “Would you write new songs? I mean if we ever decide on one.”  
  
“Definitely.” His smile regained strength.  
She thumbed his lips, thinking. “I’d still love to hear those songs. One day, I mean.”  
He folded his hands over hers, his eyes closing for a moment while he drew in a long breath. “One day,” he whispered.  
  
He let go of her hands and collected the dishes. “Go, get ready.”  
She jumped off the chair and dashed to the bedroom.  
“And wear walking shoes,” he called after her.  
  
Not thirty minutes later, they stood outside the apartment building. Her in a simple, white tee, cotton scarf, skinny jeans, and band converse. Him in all black and his scuffed up boots. Each shouldering a small backpack. Each sporting shades.  
  
His hand slipped into hers as he took lead to the station. He halted before entering, a smug smile on face. “You want the whole experience or you wanna get there fast?”  
She thought for a minute. “I take it the whole experience means taking the train.”  
“Yup. Several in fact. Which means it'll take longer to get there.”  
“Are the tickets timed?”  
“Nope. We got all day.”  
“Train there, cab back?”  
“Sounds perfect to me.”  
  
They took the L-train, switched to PATH, then HBLR; her peering out the windows with wide eyes while he kept focus on her, taking in her reactions with some amusement. There was the occasional gasp and slacked jaw, finger on the shutter of her cell for the occasional picture.  
  
They got off at a stop near a national park by Upper New York Bay; his hand in hers again when they walked the rest of the way to the pre-paid ticket window. He could feel her hand tensing, and when he looked at her, he saw that the earlier excitement had grown tenfold.  
  
They made their way through security then found their seats on the ferry. Top level, far back in the corner, and him still holding her hand. The way she beamed ear to ear, he knew she’d already glimpsed what she’d been waiting to see, but it wasn’t until the ferry set sail that he noticed a slight tremble in her hand.  
  
He squeezed her hand and her gaze tracked to him. He chuckled then moved her head by the chin to pay attention to what they came to see. “There she is,” he whispered. “The Statue of Liberty.” Oscar kissed into Elise’s hair, noting her held breath when she took a couple of pictures. “You’re such a tourist.” He chuckled another kiss into her hair.  
  
“Maybe.” Elise refocused on Oscar, and he saw a couple of tears edging to the corner of her eyes. A mix of sadness and joy in how she sighed then smiled.  
His grip tightened on her hand when she remained quiet. He backtracked his remark then searched through memories of past conversations. A twinge in his stomach and suddenly the observed cliché fell away. “Your mom would’ve loved to see this, hm?” He guessed. He was certain that that was her thought, and Elise confirmed with a hummed nod.  
“Your sister said the same.” Oscar smiled warmly.  
  
A few more minutes and the ferry docked by Liberty Island Pier. They got off and made their way to the pedestal. A wait in line then they made their way up a narrow staircase. “This is so ... so awesome.” Elise beamed, overlooking Manhattan through the statue’s crown. “We have to go there!” She pointed at the Empire State and he hitched a breath.  
  
“Today?” He asked, expression close to terrified.  
She quirked a brow. “Yes. Today. Because I want to see the whole city in a single day.”  
His eyes widened, unsure if she was kidding or not.  
She laughed. “No. Not today. Maybe when we have to go there anyways.”  
There was a definite sigh of relief from him. “Sounds like a good idea. ... Obligatory selfie time?”  
“Yup.”  
  
They made their way back downstairs, joining a tour group for the museum in the pedestal. Elise’s excitement didn’t wane. She studied each display, little “oohs” and “ahhs” in between, Oscar always a couple of steps behind her to give her space and to chance the occasional snapshot of her.  
  
“You wanna grab something to eat before we head to Ellis Island?”  
Elise rubbed her stomach. Now that he had mentioned food she was aware of her stomach rumbling. “Yes.”  
They ordered Italian subs and a side order of chili cheese fries.  
“I’m going to gain so much weight living here,” she mumbled through a bite.  
“You’re going to walk it off by the time we get home.” He winked at her.  
  
“That’s true. So... do you take the train everywhere?”  
“Most of the time. Unless there’s an event. Then Lenny arranges for a car to pick me up.” Oscar took a big bite from his sandwich then smirked at her.  
“What?” She mumbled, chewing on a fry.  
He reached for a napkin and wiped the corner of her mouth. “You’re cute.” He wiped away some chili and cheese. Just a small speck.  
She scrunched up her face, mumbling a “thanks” through another bite.  
  
They finished their meals and caught the ferry to their next stop. Her excitement was the same for Ellis Island as it was for Liberty Island, except this time she held his hand because she wanted him close.  
They took the hard-hat tour of the hospital then checked out the Immigration Museum. Before they knew it, the museum was closing and they caught the last ferry back to Liberty State National Park.  
  
Oscar called for a cab, and half an hour later they were back in Brooklyn, getting out in front of a small market. Once inside, he grabbed a basket then they slowly moved down the aisles. Without a list, they let their stomachs guide them. “Steak, tonight?” He asked, but she shook her head no.  
“Something light.” She geared towards the deli and meat section, and Oscar followed.  
  
“Oscar! You’re back.” A man serving the section beamed.  
“Sure thing. How are you?” Oscar smiled.  
“Eh. You know. Family. Kids. Work. All driving me up the wall.” The man laughed loudly. “So. Who’s the pretty lady?” He winked at Elise, and Elise in turn giggled.  
  
Oscar seemed to turn a bit red at the ears as the man behind the counter awaited the answer. “Uhm... Fabrizio, this is my ... fiancée, Elise. Elise, this is Fabrizio. The owner.”  
“Fiancée, eh?” Fabrizio’s brows wiggled. He pulled off his gloves and stretched his hand over the counter. “Nice to meet you, Elise.”  
  
Elise accepted the hand. “Nice to meet you, Fabrizio.”  
Fabrizio’s eyes widened at her words. “Eh. I hear a bit of an accent. Austrian? German? Or Swiss?” He leaned his arm on the counter, eyes sparking with curiosity.  
Elise giggled. “German.” She paused. “You have an accent, too.” She scanned over Fabrizio’s face. Some hesitation before she asked “Sei italiano?”  
  
Fabrizio boomed out a laugh, startling a few people nearby. “Sì. Vengo dalla Sicilia.”  
“Veramente? È bello lì.” Elise smiled.  
“Sei stato lì?” Fabrizio’s eyes gained more of that curious spark.  
Elise nodded. “Tanto tempo fa.”  
Fabrizio laughed again.  
  
Then a silence settled. A set of eyes tracking back and forth between Elise and Fabrizio. “Are you flirting with her, Fab?” Oscar squinted.  
“Eh. Maybe?” Fabrizio stood up tall and Oscar quirked a brow.  
“He’s a flirt.”  
“I can tell.” Elise’s eyes narrowed then all three fell into laughter.  
  
“So. Engagement, hmmmm. Let me get you something. Wait here.” Fabrizio disappeared to a back room, returning a few minutes later with a small box. “Panna cotta with rum caramel and raspberries. On the house. My wife made it this morning.” He held out the box.  
“You spoil me, Fab. You know that?” Oscar rubbed his stomach. “Could you do me a favor, though?”  
“Anything.”  
“We’re not exactly hiding but if you could...”  
Fabrizio’s hand went up. “Say no more. Your secret is safe with me.” He winked again then leaned in. “But when you do make the announcement, we have to have a drink, yes?”  
Oscar nodded then kissed Elise into the side of her hair.  
“Ah. Amore.” Fabrizio held back a laugh this time.  
  
Back home, Elise and Oscar quietly stowed away groceries, Elise snickering when she stuck the box with the pannacotta in the fridge.  
“He’s a great guy.” Oscar snuck up from behind, hands on her hips.  
“I gathered as much.” Elise pivoted in his hold, hands weaving through his curls.  
  
The softness on her face subsided, a more serious expression settling in the corners of her eyes. “So we’re keeping it under the radar?” Her brows pulled tight.  
He held a breath, biting his lower lip. “I think... for now it would be good to not yell it from the rooftops.” He reached for her left hand and played with the tourmaline stone on her ring. “I don’t want you to hide it. If they see, they see. But the fewer people know for now, the lesser the chance of some paparazzi harassing you. And there’s a lot of those around here.”  
  
“So it’s to protect me? Us?” She whispered.  
“Yes.”  
“Can I tell Leon and Ned at least?”  
“Of course, Sweetie.” He thumbed her cheek, patience in his wait.  
She nodded, softness returning to her face.  
“Going to make dinner,” he whispered. “You should go and relax.”  
“You don’t want my help?” She perked a brow, some offense in the way she held it.  
“Uhmmm...”  
“Just teasing, Lindo.”  
  
He cooked while she checked out the apartment some more. She started at the windows, taking in the view to the street below, then meandered between boxes and furniture; one hand skimming over fabric and wood. She paced to his office, checking the paint cans, then back to the dining room to check the paint cans there.  
  
She was inspecting the wall when she felt him embrace her, him leaving a soft kiss on the back of her neck. “We can pick up different paint if you want. You can paint the wall any color you like. Or maybe a mural.”  
She shook her head. “A solid color would be best. Makes more sense if I want to hang pictures or shelves.”  
He smiled into the curve of her neck. Clearly, she had an idea of how she wanted her space to look, even if she hadn’t decided on moving in.  
  
He let go and checked on the food, the smell of seared shrimp and vegetables now filling the air. And garlic. “Dinner is done.” He set up two plates and two glasses of white wine.  
  
“Thank you,” she whispered.  
“For what, Sweetie?”  
She shrugged. “Dinner. Taking me to see the statue. Letting me stay.” The last words were so hushed, he barely understood what she was saying.  
He inched closer to her, an index teasing down the side of her face before he leaned in for a kiss. “Eat,” he whispered, a quick tease with his index on her nose.  
  
They sat in comfortable silence for some time, the only noises those of forks against plates. The pannacotta Fabrizio had given them, on the other hand, procured satisfied moans. “Pretty good, right?” Oscar chuckled.  
“YES!”  
“Fab’s wife always makes extra. I swear, they’re trying to fatten me up.”  
Elise laughed. “Italians love good food. And they love seeing people enjoy good food.”  
“Is that a fact.”  
“Somewhat. I remember whenever we visited Italy, the chefs usually made rounds just to see reactions. They take great pride in what they make, you know. Not just the food.” She blushed.  
  
“Now I definitely want to go to Italy for our honeymoon.” Oscar smiled.  
“You’ve never been there? Ever?” Elise got up and gathered dishes this time.  
“A couple of times. But always for work.” He hitched a breath. “Which reminds me. I have a lot of things I need to get done this week and next. Photoshoot. Couple of interviews. Meetings with Lenny. Need to do some research as well. Go over the script.” He paused, a hint of worry in his eyes.  
  
“I figured, you’d be busy.” Elise smiled while rinsing dishes.  
“I’ll be needing your passport as well. And your birth certificate. Lenny wants to make sure the VISAS are good to go, make notarized copies of important documents just in case.” Oscar paused again.  
“I know. I’ve traveled for work. I know how crazy it can get.” She smiled, again, and he sat with a pensive expression on face.  
  
She dried her hands on a towel then moved to where he sat by the kitchen island, nudging him against his shoulder to get his attention. “What else?”  
He took a sip of his wine. A stalling technique. “Uhm... there’s an event this Friday. On the 4th. I... uhmm... I’d like for you to come along.”  
Her eyes narrowed. “Is it fancy dress?”  
He chuckled. “No... well, not exactly no, but also not exactly yes. A step above casual, but not award or premiere fancy.”  
“I see. But it’s a public kind of thing?”  
“It’s at a store. Merch promo for the movie.”  
“Ah. Ok. So, semi-public then? With photographers and press?”  
“Yes.”  
  
Another pause. He laced his fingers into hers and kissed over her fingertips. “You don’t have to. If you’re not comfortable. But I won’t lie. It would be nice if you would come along. You can stay in the background if you like. Invite Ned. I think he’s back, and I’m sure he’d love to tag along since Leon isn’t back, yet. And... Olivia might show up.”  
“Not making it easy to say no, Señor Hernández Estrada.” Her tone was quite serious.  
He husked out a chuckle. “Nope!”  
“Alright.” She agreed and he squeezed her close.  
  
“So... busy all week then?”  
He sighed, his grip on her loosening. “Yes. You can come along if you like but I can tell you right away, you’re going to be bored out of your mind. It's mostly waiting in dressing rooms or waiting areas.”  
She laughed. “The other side of glitz and glamour.”  
  
She dried the dishes and stowed them away. When she turned around, he’d gotten up to move a few boxes so he could get to the broken TV. “Be right back.” He smiled, carrying the device out the door.  
  
When he returned, he found the hideaway staircase drawn, so he made his way upstairs. “You must really like the view, huh?” He smirked.  
“Honestly? Yes. Only because I know some people would give everything for a view like that.” She stared towards the Manhattan skyline.  
“Hmmm... I’m glad you like it.” There was a heaviness in his voice and she picked up.  
“Lorraine didn’t?”  
  
Oscar shook his head.  
Elise’s eyes went wide for a moment. Then she, too, shook her head. “I don’t get it.”  
Oscar flexed against the stonewall edge, a deep breath in tow. “In hindsight, I don’t either,” he admitted.  
  
Elise sighed. “Let’s not... Let’s not talk about that.”  
“Hmmm... Then let’s talk about the future. You know...” Oscar peered around the roof. “I never really had a reason to fix this space up. I mean, yeah. My friends and I sit around now and then. Play guitar. Drink a few beers. Uhmmm...” His lips twisted.  
“Smoke?” Elise tilted her head. She’d seen the evidence this morning.  
“Uhhhh ... yes.”  
  
He cringed like he’d been caught and she laughed. “I won’t be able to do much until we get back. So the roof will have to wait until spring. But I was thinking... new tiles. New outdoor seating. A small shaded area. Planters if you like. And an area where you can set up if you want to paint.” He ran a nervous hand over the back of his neck and waited.  
  
Elise’s gaze tracked from one side of the roof to the other. No words.  
He had expected some kind of response. Something other than silence. “You’re still not sure.”  
“I... I don’t know.” She looked down to avoid the disappointment in his eyes.  
He ran his hands down her arms, hoping she’d look up. “It’s ok. I’m not mad.”  
“No... No... see... it’s not ok.” She countered. “After everything that happened, you’d think, I would want to leave Seattle. And you... You’re willing to do all these things for me and... “ Her voice trembled.  
  
“Sweetie. It’s ok. I promise.”  
She shook her head. “No. ... No! I’ve got nothing left there. I mean, yes, family and friends but even that’s changing. And then... Frank... I’m scared to go back and yet, I don’t want to leave.”  
A hitched breath and he hugged her close, leaning a kiss on her forehead, and she fell apart right then and there.  
  
“I’m sorry,” she whispered when tears stopped.  
“Don’t be, Sweetie. Not for speaking your mind.”  
She shook her head again but he wouldn’t have it. He cupped her face and waited, tired grays meeting concerned browns when she finally looked up.  
“Let’s take it one day at a time. One step. I’m still willing to move to Seattle if that’s what you want. And I’m still willing to wait if you want to move here. Or we can split time between the cities. I mean it when I say that this is up to you, but...” He paused because she had flinched at the last word. “... but I still want you to set up an office space for yourself. And I still want to fix up the roof. With you! Even we don't end up staying here. Ok?”  
  
She nodded.  
“Sweetie. Words.” He smiled.  
“Ok,” she whispered.  
“Good. Now let’s go back inside. It’s getting cold and I need snuggles.”  
  
Monday started early. The buzzer for the door ripped her out of her sleep. He was just about to leave when he saw her darting up. “Sorry, mi Reina. Lenny is an impatient man.”  
“No kidding." She glanced at her cell and pouted. "Oh my god. It’s five in the morning.” She smushed her face back in the pillow and groaned, then flipped to her side. “Tell him, next time, I’ll be the one opening the door. And he won’t be happy seeing my pretty face.” She grumbled.  
“Now who’s grouchy.” Oscar laughed.  
  
She tossed the pillow and he laughed even more.  
“Go back to sleep. I should be back by noon.” All he heard was a “grrrrrrr” and he laughed again.  
  
Despite her internal clock still being on Seattle time, she found it difficult going back to sleep. She got up and made coffee. Extra dark. Extra strong. A quick breakfast then a quick shower. After that, she paced from room to room, almost aimlessly, unsure what to do. Being in a new city, she didn't just want to up and leave for a few hours. Not until she got more familiar with the area at least.  
  
She got out her cell, fast fingers over the digital keyboard. “Did you have an idea of how to paint the office or did you want it all in one color?”  
“Accent wall on the short side. Why do you ask?”  
“Gotta make myself useful.”  
“You don’t have to do that. Paint your corner.”  
“If we get your office done, we can move stuff back in there. It’ll be easier to get my corner done after that.”  
“Alright.”  
“So accent wall. Dark color? Or light?”  
“Light. Unless you think it’ll look better the other way.”  
“Take it you want to hang dark frames?”  
“Yes. *triple dots indicator* Sorry, mi Reina. Gotta run.”  
“K. Ich liebe dich.”  
“Te amo.”

She let out a huff of air and got to work. At least he had taped the room already. All she had to do was mix the paint and open all the windows. The added music helped, too.  
She was working on the second coat when she faintly heard the front door shut.  
“Hello?”  
“In here,” she called out, still painting one of the walls.  
“Uhm... hi?” A voice behind her shied out, and she reasoned that Oscar kept his distance because she was speckled with paint.  
   
Amused, she pivoted on her heel, ready for a kiss, but froze mid-turn. Heart rate up, her hand tightened around the paint-roller she was holding. “Who the fuck are you?”   
Before the stranger could answer, Elise heard the door shut again. “Not afraid to use this!” She yelled, raising her free hand to a fist.  
“It’s just me, Sweetie.”  
“Oh good. Oscar... get in here!” Her voice reached a new pitch and he hurried at the sound.

“Hey. What’s going on?” Oscar stood a bit perplexed at the sight.  
“This guy just walked in.”  
“I... I ... I did knock.” The stranger stumbled out.  
“Doesn’t mean you get to just waltz in here!” Elise set one foot forward and the stranger flinched.


	7. Chapter 7

An interrupted lunge and the roller sweeping over his shirt was inevitable.  
Elise stood confused; Oscar between her and the stranger; an umber streak across Oscar’s chest.  
  
“Ok... alright... Sorry, Sweetie.” Oscar chuckled to disarm the situation. “I forgot to tell you.”  
“Tell me what?” She kept a warning glare on the stranger slouching behind Oscar. A lanky guy with aviator style glasses and messy hair. Maybe Oscar’s age or a couple of years younger. Definitely not younger than thirty. Still, it was difficult to tell. He looked young and yet, he didn’t. Why she was fixated on figuring out the age right then and there, even she couldn’t answer.  
“Uhmmmm... This is A.J.” Oscar pointed a thumb over his shoulder; another chuckle in tow.  
  
“Jesus fucking Christ! Oscar!” Elise dropped the paint roller and stomped off to the bedroom, slamming the door shut behind herself.  
“Hhhhhhuhhh... fuck.” Oscar sighed.  
A.J. stayed fixed in his spot, eyes wide open. “That’s your fiancée?”  
“Yup. And I better go check to make sure she’s ok. Remember what I told you?”  
“Oh right. Shit. I should go.”  
“Nah. Let me go talk to her.”  
  
Oscar made his way to the bedroom, knocking first before trying to enter. When Elise didn’t answer, he let himself in. Slowly. Just in case she was ready to aim things at him. But the bedroom was empty.  
  
“Sweetie?” He closed the door and geared towards the master bathroom. He leaned his ear against the door and hitched a breath. Despite her attempt to muffle noises, he could tell that she was crying. He mumbled out a cuss word then knocked on the door, jiggling the handle, but the door was locked. “Sweetie, I’m sorry. Open the door, please?”  
Nothing.  
  
“Mi Linda? Please? It truly slipped my mind.”  
He heard movement, then a click.  
He turned the handle and opened the bathroom door. Slowly again.  
Elise sat on the edge of the bathtub, a towel in her hand, trembling, and eyes on the floor.  
“May I come in?” He asked, taking a cautious step forward, and she just nodded, her face covered in wet streaks.  
  
He dropped to his knees in front of her, his hands reaching for hers. She flinched and his heart dropped. “Oh, Sweetie. I’m... I... I don’t know what to say. I completely forgot.”  
Nothing again.  
  
He whispered a “fuck”.  
She pulled in a breath and shook her head, still not looking at him.  
He sighed. “Sweetie, talk to me. Yell at me. Call me names. I don’t know. Something.”  
Her eyes met his, a mix of anger and frustration behind her grays. “You’re an ass,” she whispered.  
He husked out a chuckle and squeezed her hands. “I am.”  
  
“It’s not funny!” Her voice picked up volume.  
“I know.”  
“I mean what the fuck, Oscar? After everything, you should fucking know better! He scared the crap out of me. And what if I had hit him? Or worse. I mean shit, I was ready to stab him if it came down to it. Damn it!” Her voice reached its peak, the last words cracking under the strain.  
  
Oscar stood up, pulling her up with him, her still trembling. “I’m sorry, Sweetie.” He repeated. He was cautious when he hugged her close. And when he kissed into her hair.  
She leaned her head forward, a pause, then a sigh before her forehead stopped at his chin. “I ruined your shirt.” She whispered, looking at the paint.  
  
He didn’t expect that statement. Somehow, he had expected her to break down. In fact, he had braced himself for more tears. Angry tears. Scared ones, too. “I can buy a new one.” He chuckled then kissed above her left brow. He waited a moment, then chuckled again.  
“What’s so funny?” She perked a brow.  
“You were ready to take him out.” Oscar perked a brow of his own. Impressed in a way.  
  
Elise stepped back, thinking for a moment, lips curling to a thin smile. “I was.”  
Oscar nodded then her smile waned. “I know, it’s not that simple. We’ll work through this. We’ll talk to someone. We’ll take self-defense classes.” He cradled her face in his hands.  
She shook her head. “I took classes. And still couldn’t fight. Back at the hotel.”  
“Hmm... Every situation is different. He had the upper hand and a weapon. But... look. You were ready to fight today. And with more training and some talking, all this will get easier.” Oscar ran a thumb over Elise’s lips, and she nodded in agreement.  
  
“Is your friend still here?” She mumbled.  
“He is. I told him to wait. I can tell him to leave if you want me to.”  
She sighed then shook her head. “No.”  
“You sure?”  
“Hmmm... Just give me a few minutes.”  
Oscar hummed out an ok.  
  
She stayed in the bathroom a while longer, looking in the mirror, running her hands over her neck; the bruises nearly gone now. Just blotches of yellow left. “You were going to fight today.” Her mouth twisted and she wasn’t sure why.  
She splashed some cold water on her face and took a deep breath. A few more seconds then she made her way to the living room.  
  
Oscar was just about to open the fridge when he saw her. “Beer? Or wine?”  
“Today? A beer.”  
Oscar grabbed three, gesturing with his chin towards the hallway. The hideaway staircase was already drawn, the faint sound of a guitar getting played coming from above.  
  
Once upstairs, Elise saw A.J. lounging on one of the old chairs; strumming some chords on an old, beat up guitar; a lit cigarette dangling from the corner of his mouth. He seemed unaware that they were there, so she took the chance for another once-over. Slower than earlier. Because now it wasn’t about fight or flight. Or figuring out where to best land a hit.  
  
Lanky, messy hair, aviator style glasses, A.J. also wore clashing colored and patterned clothing. And old boots. Almost scruffier than Oscar’s.  
And his face...? She still couldn’t quite tell his age. Soft features and absence of lines made him look younger than he probably was. “Is that even comfortable?” She smirked and A.J. stopped playing.  
“No. I keep telling Oscar to get new chairs, but dude is too lazy to go to the store.” There was a pause. One during which A.J. took another drag before he squished the cigarette into the rooftop floor.  
“That right there. That stops. Get an ashtray!” Elise scolded and A.J. flinched.  
“Oscar does it too.”  
  
“Is that so?” Elise gave Oscar a look and he flinched too.  
“Thanks for ratting me out, man.”  
A.J. laughed then got up and paced towards Elise, one hand already stretched towards her. “Sorry about earlier. Should’ve used the buzzer.”  
“Show me around the neighborhood tomorrow and we call it even?” Elise squeezed A.J.’s hand.  
“Deal.”  
  
A.J. meandered back to the chair. “So, Elise... It’s Elise, right?”  
She nodded.  
“You play?” A.J. lifted the guitar, dropping back into the chair.  
She shrugged and sat in a chair next to A.J., the chair squeaking from weather exposure. “Not really.”  
“She knows how to play the piano,” Oscar seated himself on a pile of pillows meant for garden chairs.  
  
“Ah yeah? We could use someone who plays piano.” A.J. smirked.  
Elise pondered for a moment. “I rather not. That’s your guys’ thing.”  
“Well, if ever, the offer stands.” A.J. started a new cigarette; this time plucking individual strings rather than strumming.  
“I know that one.” Elise smiled upon recognition of the song.  
“I would hope so. Oscar said you were a fan.” A.J. kept plucking, and Oscar began singing the first verse to _//Awake My Soul//_.  
  
Tuesday started way quieter than Monday. Oscar was already up and out by the time Elise woke. A scribbled note on the kitchen island explained that it would be a long day and that she shouldn’t wait up; a second note by the fridge telling her that there were mixed fruit and a couple of waffles waiting for her. “Set the toaster to three and a half to reheat the waffles. _*smiley face*_ ”  
  
“Thank you, Lindo.” She texted.  
“No problem, Erdbeere.” He replied.  
“So, long day?”  
“Yes. Likely past midnight. Costume fitting before we ship stuff to Spain.”  
“Fun. When are we leaving anyway?”  
“On the 12th. _*big smiley face*_ Gotta run. Ich liebe dich. - PS: Spares are on the vanity.”  
  
She smiled and collected the notes, at last, once again stuffing them into her turquoise journal. Then she ate breakfast. She walked through the apartment while eating, one hand once again running over fabric and wood.  
  
Oscar’s furniture looked worn in. Not bad but definitely like he had owned all of it for a while. The sofa and love chair especially. But Elise didn’t mind. She loved it, in fact. The wear gave everything character. And comfort.  
For a moment she wondered if he’d be replacing the living room furniture like he already had in his office. In fact, she wondered what his old desk and shelf looked like.  
She made a mental note to ask him.  
  
At noon, A.J. stood in the door. This time he used the buzzer and waited to be let in. With a sunflower in hand.  
“What’s that for?” Elise chuckled.  
“Oscar said you like these. And... I kinda still feel bad about yesterday.” A.J. awkwardly handed the flower over, his posture a bit slouched. Like the day before.  
  
Unlike the day before, he was dressed in blue jeans and a black shirt, and his hair looked _//groomed//_ or the closest thing to it. All of it feeling a bit off. Like that was not his usual self. At the observation, the question of A.J.’s age popped back into Elise’s mind. She kept scanning over him to find some hint. She could’ve asked but she figured it rude. Instead, her gaze - _for whatever reason_ \- went back to his hair.  
  
A.J. felt Elise staring. “Yeah. It’s a bit wild.” He ran a hand through his hair, messing up the attempted part.  
“I don’t mind.” Elise laughed softly.  
“You don’t?” A.J.’s face lit up. “Thank god. The other one always complained.”  
“The other one?” Elise perked a disapproving brow. She knew whom A.J. meant, but she didn’t care for the choice of words. Or the tone.  
  
A.J. cringed. “His ex.”  
“Hmmm. I see.” Elise searched for a vase, and when she couldn’t find one, used a glass for the sunflower. “Just so you know, you don’t have to dress up for me. Wear what’s comfortable.”  
“Are you sure?” A.J.’s voice squeaked.  
“Of course, I am. Why?”  
“Because yesterday was what’s comfortable.”  
  
Elise stopped in her tracks for a second, the clash of colors and patterns on recall. In some way, he reminded her of Richard. A thought that made her snicker. “Honestly, I could think of far worse things,” she smiled and A.J. suddenly seemed to stand a whole head taller.  
  
They made their way downstairs, A.J. scurrying to open the door for Elise. From the looks of it, they were in for a sunny late-summer afternoon. Perfect weather.  
A.J. turned left and just started walking. No warning of let's go. Elise stared after him for a few paces then caught up.  
“You’ve already seen the market?”  
“Yes, Oscar took me there on Sunday.”  
“So you know Fab, then, huh?” A.J.’s eyes crinkled and Elise nodded. “I think, he’s taken pity on us because we’re always busy. More his wife, really. Wait until Christmas. You’ll have so much dessert, you won’t know what to do with it all.”  
  
Elise snickered. First at the slight hint of juvenile mischief in A.J.’s voice, then at an image of Oscar rubbing his tummy from overeating sweets. “What do you do anyway?”  
“Audio engineer.”  
“Audio engineer?”  
“I work the recording equipment at one of the studios here. Work gigs, too. Sometimes, I help at the theater. Now and then, I go on tour with artists. I have a small studio at my place.” A.J. smiled.  
  
“Nice. Does Oscar record music with you?”  
“Now and then. Have you ever listened to his old stuff?”  
“You mean from his band days? No.” Elise shook her head.  
“Wow.” A.J. stopped for a second.  
“I’d love to hear it. But I always figured he’d bring it up on his own. Eventually,” Elise whispered the last word as they started back up.  
“Hmmmm... maybe. Gotta push him now and then.”  
“Really?”  
“Yeah, really. He’ll never play his old stuff otherwise.”  
  
This time Elise stopped. “Why?”  
A.J.’s brows pulled tight for a moment, lips pursing a bit. “I think... because... it reminds him of his buddy.”  
A.J. was ready to walk on but Elise stayed put, A.J. doing a one-eighty when she didn’t follow.  
“Look. He doesn’t bring it up often. And if he hasn’t with you, it’s probably because he doesn’t want you to see him sad.”  
Elise still didn’t move. Now she had to hear the rest.  
A.J. sighed. “One of his bandmates overdosed. It was years ago. Right around when he joined Julliard.”  
  
Elise stood quietly, unsure what to say. The slouch in A.J.’s posture, though, and she had one more question. “Did you know him? Oscar’s bandmate, I mean?”  
A.J. gulped, slouching even more. “We were all good friends.”  
  
It was the first time Elise saw lines on A.J.’s face. There was no doubt about his age now, but she hated that pain had exposed him like that. She cupped his chin and he smiled weakly. “I’m sorry,” she whispered.  
A.J. scanned over Elise’s face. She seemed lost in her own thoughts for a brief moment. “The sadness never truly goes away, does it?” He asked and she slowly shook her head.  
“It doesn’t. But neither do the happy thoughts they bring out in us.” She smiled.  
  
A.J. drew in a long breath then stood up tall again. “Let me show you the rest of this neighborhood.” He held out an elbow and Elise linked in.  
A.J. explained that there was a farmer’s market every Tuesday and Thursday morning not far from the building and that they had just missed it by half an hour. “Only on Tuesdays during winter.” He explained further as they watched the last vendors take down their stands.  
  
They kept walking and he showed her several ways to different stations. Bus and train. “We have a great transit system. Every ten minutes to and from Manhattan or wherever you want to go. Unless there’s a strike.”  
Elise chuckled. “Sounds familiar.”  
“Lot’s of cabs, too. But it does get expensive.” A.J. pointed with his chin at a cab driving past.  
“I take it, you don’t own a car either?”  
“Not worth it, really. Parking spots are almost as expensive as rent.”  
“That sounds familiar, too.” This time Elise didn’t chuckle. Just nodded with wide eyes.  
“Seattle is expensive, then?” A.J. stopped in front of an old building with heavy wood-framed windows and exposed red brick.  
“It can be. I think every major city is like that.”  
“Very true... Anyways. This is our bar.” A.J. pointed up at a sign, a wide grin on his face.  
  
Elise lifted a brow then laughed while she read over the name. _//Das tapfere Schneiderlein//_. “Do you know what it means?” She side-eyed A.J.  
“The brave tailor.”  
Elise laughed again. “Yes.”  
They entered and she kept snickering.  
  
“What’s so funny?” A rather stout man behind the bar rumbled out.  
“Nothing.” Elise’s lips twisted as she tried to bite away more snickering.  
“She’s laughing at the name.” A.J. pulled a chair for her then seated himself.  
“Am not!” She nudged against A.J.’s shoulder. “Just haven’t heard that in a long time, and it reminded me of home.”  
  
“Is that so? Now I’m curious.” The man behind the bar cleaned a glass while leaning on the counter.  
Elise looked between him and A.J.. “It’s the name of a story by the brothers Grimm. You know. Fairytale. I remember hearing it all the time when I was younger. How the tailor was quite cunning. Almost a trickster. It’s one of those _//moral of the story//_ types, and _//don’t believe everything you hear//_ kind of things. And my dad used to read it to me all the time.”  
  
This time A.J. peered between faces.

Narrowed eyes and thin-pressed lips then the man behind the counter rumbled out a laugh. “Sieben auf einen Streich.” The man smirked; the words spoken with a strong American accent, though.  
“Yes! You know it, then.” Elise beamed.  
“My dad told me the story, too. Named the bar after it. We even got a drink called _//Sieben auf eine Streich//_.” The man smiled widely, handing Elise a card that listed all the drinks.  
  
She read over the list; the drink mentioned coming attached with the creator’s name. “Wolfgang Senior?” Elise looked up.  
“That’s my dad. I’m Junior. As in Wolfgang Junior.” Wolfgang laughed. “Sooooo... Augustus. Didn’t know you had a lady in your life.” Wolfgang wiggled his brows.  
  
A.J.’s eyes shot wide open then he dropped his head on the counter. “Thanks.”  
“Augustus?” Elise side-eyed A.J. There was a slight quiver of a held back chuckle. “What’s the J stand for?” She poked.  
“Mmm-hmmm-per.” A.J. mumbled.  
“What?”  
“Juniper, ok! It’s Juniper.”  
Wolfgang and Elise laughed, and A.J. shook his head. With a bit of a smirk. He clearly didn’t mind getting teased now and then, and Elise had a feeling the bartender had revealed the name on purpose just to see her reaction.  
  
“Aaaaaanyyyyways,” A.J. drew out the word. “Elise is Oscar’s better half.”  
“Ohhhh.” Wolfgang raised a surprised brow then lined up three shot glasses. He lifted a bottle of dark spirit but halted right before pouring. “Like _better_ better half?” There was an inquiry of judgment in there when he looked at A.J. for the answer.  
A.J. gave Elise a pondering once-over with a pause at the end and she gasped, tilted head and wide eyes in tow.  
“Just joking. _Way_ better half.” A.J. laughed and Wolfgang poured.  
  
They downed the shots, A.J. the only one twisting his face as he gasped for some air.  
“Was this a test?” Elise quirked a brow, patting A.J.’s back.  
“Kind of.” Wolfgang laughed. “Gotta say, you’re the first one to drink one of these without sniffing it first. Want another one?”  
“No. I know this stuff. It’ll kick in a bit later.” Elise grinned. “Water would be good.”  
“And some stuffed potato skins,” A.J. rasped out, Elise still patting his back.  
  
They ate and talked, A.J. explaining that this particular neighborhood was mostly apartment buildings with mom and pop shops at ground levels; a couple of bars hidden in between; and plenty of family-owned restaurants at corners in either direction of where they lived.  
  
“It’s pretty diverse here. See the building across?” A.J. pointed and Elise nodded. “Best Italian bakery on the block. And right next to that. Specialty store for South Asian cuisine. You know... India, Nepal, Sri Lanka. Good stuff. Oscar likes to go shopping there. Farther down, there’s a small furniture store and gallery. The owner is from Tanzania. She makes everything by hand.”  
  
A.J. kept talking and Elise listened. At least, she tried to. Her thoughts strayed with each word and soon it was all background noise. Muffled. Intermingled. Indistinguishable.  
“... at least that’s what he told me.” A.J. finished.  
There was a short moment.  
Silence.  
“Told you what?” Elise sat confused.  
“That you might have a tough time here. Because your family is out north-west.”  
  
Elise shook her head. “It’s not that by itself. It’s a whole lot of things.”  
“Like?”  
Elise shrugged as she looked around. “I don’t know. Work, for one. Gotta find something in a linguistics field. And then there’s being in a new city. I don’t know anyone here.” Her focus went back to A.J., and he seemed to slouch, again.  
“You know Oscar. And me.” He frowned a little.  
“Hmmmm... That’s true, huh?” She paused. “Augustus.” There was a knowing smirk and A.J. rolled his eyes.  
“Not even my mom calls me that.” He scrunched up his nose.  
  
Elise glanced at her watch. They seemed to have talked for a while, the face showing nearly 4 p.m. “Should probably head back. I want to finish painting the office and start putting the shelf together.”  
“You need help?”  
“You offering?”  
“Eh... only because Oscar’s been trying to renovate since forever. And I’d like to have my tools back at some point.”  
“I figured those weren’t his.” Elise laughed.  
  
They made their way back, Elise trying to memorize street names and buildings, but it was all a little overwhelming still. Seattle seemed a small town compared to New York. Even compared to Brooklyn. At least the immediate vicinity was starting to etch into her mind.  
  
First - _one street across from the station they had used on Sunday_ \- a specialty liquor store. French, if she was correct. Then a Brazilian restaurant. Then Fabrizio’s market. Three more buildings and one more street and they stood back in front of a typical - _and slowly familiar_ \- Brooklyn apartment building; however, somewhat untypical for the specific area in the borough.  
  
“C-six class,” A.J. explained while walking up the six flights of stairs to Oscar’s apartment. “They’re more common at Slope Park and Brooklyn Heights.”  
Elise huffed out a breath when they finally reached the top level landing. Just like the few days since she had arrived. “Jesus fucking Christ. No wonder his thighs are they way they are. And his ass.” She rubbed over burning muscle and A.J. laughed.  
“You’ll get used to it.”  
  
A.J. turned out to be a better handyman than Oscar. They finished painting the office in record time. Building the corner shelf and the desk seemed a breeze, too.  
“Did Oscar not learn anything from you? I mean with you two being friends for what? At least fifteen years? You’d think he’d know how to use a screwdriver,” Elise huffed as they lifted the shelf from horizontal to vertical.  
  
There was a wholehearted laugh from A.J. and he nearly dropped the shelf. “Well... I blame it on selective learning and partially not giving a damn.”  
“How so?” Elise helped push the shelf close to its intended corner, leaving space as the paint was still setting.  
“He’s constantly auditioning for new roles. Learning new accents. Reading. Doing research. Working out. Traveling. Premieres. Photo shoots. Interviews. Shit,... he’s even gone into production. You know, everything that comes with his type of work.” A.J. paused. A quick glance at Elise and he saw that reality was catching up.  
  
“Don’t get me wrong. He loves it. Like he’s in it because he loves the process. But when he comes home, he’s done. He doesn’t want to deal with learning more stuff even if it’s practical. He just wants to relax.” A.J. lifted the desk on two corners and waited for Elise to lift the others.  
She did and they carried the desk close to the window for now. “Makes sense, I think. Still, why bother renovating?” Elise asked. “I mean, if he likes the status quo at home, why bother?”  
  
A.J. rubbed over the back of his neck, mouth twisting a bit like he wanted to hold back. “Yeah... uhmmm... you’d have to ask Oscar about that.” Was all the response A.J. was willing to give. “Tell you what though, you’re to blame for him not getting this finished sooner.”  
“Excuse me?” Elise quirked a brow and A.J. laughed.  
“Let me show you.” He gestured to head to the front door.  
  
One flight of stairs down and they stood in front of A.J.’s apartment; some hesitation from Elise when A.J. asked to follow. “You can leave the door open if you like.”  
So she did.  
  
Elise peered around.  
A.J.’s apartment seemed to have the same layout as Oscar’s. Considering that it was right below, that wasn’t really surprising. Except, A.J. used the office as bedroom and the bedroom as a private recording studio.  
Instruments stood or laid scattered throughout the entire apartment. It was a miracle Elise didn’t trip over a guitar or an amp attached to one.  
  
A.J. didn’t seem to have a significant other. If he did, there was no evidence of him sharing the apartment.  
No personal pictures graced the walls. Just tour posters.  
The kitchen island showed a single coffee cup standing atop. A few unwashed dishes were stacked in the sink. An ashtray on the coffee table was nearly overflowing. And the entertainment system looked as though it hadn’t been dusted in a while. Used, yes. Smudges gave that away. But not dusted.  
  
“Sorry about the mess,” A.J. called from the studio.  
“I don’t mind.” Elise chuckled at balled up pieces of paper strewn around a trash can. She started picking them up but halted when she spied a picture frame on a small round corner table next to the T.V.  
  
She picked up the frame and stared at the picture it was holding, the picture showing a group of six young men standing on some stage, all beaming ear to ear. She recognized Oscar right away. He stood out with his dark eyes and dark curls. Even with him looking quite a bit thinner back then.  
  
Elise recognized A.J. as well. He looked nearly the same. Except, he didn’t have glasses. But his hair was just as messy. And his choice of clothing just as colorful.  
The rest, she didn’t know, but she ventured that this was the band they’d been talking about.  
  
A soft creak and she jerked around, A.J. standing a few feet behind her. “I’m... I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to snoop.”  
“That’s ok.” A.J. paced her way and took the frame from her hands. “Look at us. Playing the same stage as Green Day. Was pretty cool.” He let her glance over the picture one more time then set the frame back on the table.  
  
A.J. stood quietly for some time. Like he was lost in the moment of whenever the picture had been taken. “Oscar was the only one who never... he never did drugs. Or drank. Or smoked.”  
Elise raised a surprised brow and A.J. smiled for a moment.  
  
“Kev’s death changed us. All of us. Not saying that’s why Oscar started. It was a few more years before he even tried beer. But things were different. Real. We were suddenly grownups with grownup problems. And even though he didn’t try any of the shit we did, out of all of us, I think it hit Oscar the hardest. I think... because out of all of us he saw things... he saw things from a sober point of view.” A.J. sat down on his sofa and lit up a cigarette, offering one to Elise, but she declined.  
  
“Good. Don’t start.” A.J. chuckled.  
Elise sat down next to him, waiting. Somehow she felt like there was more.  
“You know how I said Oscar doesn’t like it when people see him sad? Well more like the people he cares about?” A.J. asked and Elise nodded. “He’s always been like that. Guarded. Sometimes, you gotta push him a little. But you gotta know how to push the right way. Or else, he’ll give you that trained actor shit.” A.J. lifted a brow and Elise laughed a soft laugh.  
  
“I mean it. Don’t let him fool you. He likes to joke around. A lot. But when it’s constant, that’s when you know he’s hiding behind himself, and that’s when you gotta push.”  
Elise tilted her head, brows pulled tight.  
“Shit... Look at me getting all philosophical and teary-eyed!” A.J. laughed. “Didn’t bring you here to tell you a sob story.”  
“I don’t mind sob stories.” Elise smiled reassuringly.  
“Hmmmm... yeah, well, there’s a few more where that came from. But he has to tell you himself.” A.J. scanned over Elise, studying her reaction. He’d been doing so all afternoon, and she was aware.  
She held a breath and smiled, again. “He already has.”  
A.J. sat quietly, thinking, then smiled. “That’s good.”  
  
He reached to the coffee table, grabbing a pair of wireless headphones and handing them to Elise. “Oscar hasn’t written anything new in a couple of years. But he came back... uhmm, let me think... Yeah, he came back in April for a few days, and dude had like three, new, half-finished songs. He wouldn’t exactly tell me why he had written them but I mean, it wasn’t difficult to figure out. He finished recording when he came back from Montreal.”  
  
Elise held the headphones in her hands, hesitant to put them on. “Uhm... I don’t know if I should.” She tried to hand the headphones back but A.J. just blinked in return.  
He hitched a breath then grabbed a remote from the table. “Oscar only ever lets his guard down if he cares about someone or something. And even then, he’s very careful. I can tell you this much... The last time he wrote something, it wasn’t about his ex. But he did care deeply to get the songs right. And he cared about getting these right. And in my eyes, that means something.”  
  
Elise looked to the floor then back up. “I thought you were done being philosophical.” She smiled and A.J. chuckled.  
Elise pulled the headphones over her ears and saw A.J. hitting play.  
The song started, a soft acoustic guitar the only instrument she heard. There was a held breath and then a familiar gravelly voice. His voice. Oscar’s.  
  
_“Strawberry scent fills the air.  
Taste of vanilla.  
Minty whispers carry to my ear.  
A soft smile. A tender kiss.  
And always  
An ocean’s worth of thoughts  
behind green slivered grays.  
  
Doubt invades a broken heart.  
Angry tears. Fear of a new start.  
She needs time. She needs space.  
Little does she know,  
She’s the best thing  
I’ve held in years.  
Ohhh, little does she know,  
She’s the best thing  
I have held in years.”_  
  
Elise listened to the end of the first song then she pulled the headphones off. “I’ll save the rest for another day,” she whispered, hardly able to look at A.J.  
  
She could feel tears edging to the corners of her eyes.  
Happy tears.  
Happy because for the entire song she could tell that Oscar had been smiling while singing. It was in the way his voice was up in pitch, and the fact that, at the very end, she heard a soft, abashed laugh. And it was definitely Oscar’s.  
  
“Thank you.” She handed the headphones back.  
A.J. sat quietly, again, studying Elise, again, but also letting the song settle. “So... you really don’t mind me wearing whatever?” He asked out of the blue.  
Elise needed a minute to process the question. She laughed out a “What?”, shaking her head.  “Why would I mind? You’re a grown man. You can make your own decisions.”  
A.J. eyes lit up, which somehow provoked another laugh.  
He gestured with his chin to head back upstairs, so they did.  
  
Elise grabbed a couple of beers from the fridge while A.J. ordered food. Then they checked on the paint in Oscar’s office while waiting for food to arrive. “Almost dry.” She stated after testing a small spot.  
A.J. checked a different spot and nodded in agreement. “I can help finish the rest tomorrow if you want.” He offered.  
“Don’t you have work?”  
“Yeah, but it would be nice to get my tools back. You know,... like... this year.” There was a sarcastic squeaked timbre with the last statement and Elise laughed.  
“Well with me around you won’t have to worry about Oscar borrowing your tools. I’ll buy him some. And maybe teach him how to use a damn drill because you know, he tried using a masonry bit on metal. Not pretty.” Elise’s eyes went wide for a moment then laughter echoed into the room, followed by the sound of a high five and the light clink of glass beer bottles tipping at the neck.


	8. Chapter 8

A glance at his watch and he cussed. He had expected to be back way sooner, but now the face showed 1:30 a.m., and he was sure that she was still awake even though he had told her not to wait up. He laughed softly at the thought.  
If it was the other way around, he would do the same.  
They were both stubborn like that.  
  
Another small laugh and he finally unclipped the keys from his jeans, unlocking the door as quietly as possible.  
The lights were still on. The sound of the bedroom television echoed softly through the apartment. A hint of fresh paint hung in the air.  
  
The latter had him check out his office. A sticky note on the double door warned him not to touch the walls and to leave the windows wide open. He chuckled at the ten or so exclamation marks attached at the bottom.  
  
She knew him almost too well by now.  
There was a definite urge to touch the newly painted surfaces. Not with his whole hand. Just a poke. But he decided to heed the warning. He would not hear the end of it should she find a smudge or some attempt to cover it up. He had learned that the week before when they had helped ready Redfield Manor.  
  
He did, however, take the chance to inspect the shelf and the desk, eyes widening when he found a piece of paper with sketches and measurements atop the desk; the words “running shelf” scribbled in one corner of the paper. He huffed out a breath in disbelief.  
  
Somehow, he had hoped that she was kidding about wanting to fix up and finish his office this week. Then again, they hadn’t discussed exact plans after everything had been thrown for a loop. At least not for her. All he knew for certain was that he didn’t want her to feel obligated to do these things just because their return had been delayed, or because she didn’t have a job for time being.  
  
He heaved a breath then made his way to the bedroom. The door was angled, so he quietly pushed against it. He internalized a laugh at the sight. His earlier assumption that she might be awake was only half right. From the way she was propped on the bed _-curled over a pile of pillows while sitting up and with remote in hand-_ , it was clear that she had tried her best to stay awake, but sleep had won this round.  
Him getting out his cell and taking a picture was automatic, because that was their thing, and he couldn’t wait to fill a whole book with snapshots like this.  
  
He stared at the review then tucked his cell away.  
Instinct wanted him to take the remote from her hand, maybe nudge her to lie down right, but he held off. If he was to disturb her now, before he was ready to crawl into bed next to her, she’d likely not lull back to sleep. And considering the last couple of weeks, he knew that she needed to catch up on sleep.

True sleep.

Peaceful sleep.

End of a long day and content with good exhaustion kind of sleep. So he held off.  
  
Instead, he made his way to the kitchen for a glass of water, a note by the fridge catching his eye. “Thai food leftovers inside. _*smiley face*_.”  
He opened the fridge then shook his head with an angled smile. “And strawberry shortcake from Fab’s market. Sent by messenger from Fab. _*extra big smiley face*_.”  
  
Oscar ate the shortcake before the Thai food leftovers. Only because warming up the latter took a few minutes. He paid close attention to catch the microwave before the last three seconds were up as to avoid for the device making noise.  
  
Even so, every sound seemed enhanced somehow.  
He caught himself staring towards the bedroom more than once to see if he had woken her up. Especially when the door of the microwave crashed closed and a fairly loud “fuck” escaped between gritted teeth.  
  
To his surprise, there was no movement. No hint of her stirring. No call of his name.  
So he finished his food but left the dishes in the sink. They could wait.  
A quick stop in the bathroom and the walk-in closet then he finally took the remote from her hand, nudging her to lie down right.  
  
A few confused words and she slipped rather ungracefully off the pile of pillows.  
He bit back his amusement and rearranged the pillows then curled up next to her, one arm over her waist, staying as still as possible when he heard her mumble a few more words.  
He waited to see if she had woken up after all, but she remained quiet after that. Just a couple of twitches then the familiar purred snoring set in, and he knew that she was lost back in dreamland.  
  
He listened to her for a while, focusing on her steady breathing. The gentle rhythm was one of his favorite things. On top of her scent. He had always loved that and now his pillows smelled of her. The only thing that topped either was her subconsciously moving closer to him, closing what little gap had remained between their bodies. Feeling her pressed against him, peaceful and warm, was all he needed after a long day.  
  
It definitely had a positive effect. He couldn’t recall when he had fallen asleep. He remembered kissing her shoulder one more time and that was it.  
And now his mind came to from a tickle against his nose. Several in fact.  
A soft chuckle followed the last one. From her.  
“Lindo.” He heard her whisper.  
He inhaled deeply, keeping his eyes closed.  
“Ossssscaaaaaarrrrr.” Elise drew out his name, and he couldn’t help a tiny smirk at the enticing undertone. Like there was some kind of reward waiting for him if he opened his eyes.  
  
Regardless, he kept his eyes closed. And just like he figured, a few seconds later, he felt a finger tracing over his lips.  
He waited.  
He knew that, eventually, her finger would come to a rest at the center. Like a lure to see if he would bite. And usually, he did. But today, he made her wait. A test to see who would give in first.  
  
He counted the seconds.  
  
Fifty-one.  
  
Fifty-two.  
  
Fifty-thr...  
  
“I know you’re awake!” She smashed a pillow onto his face and he laughed. “Fake.” She hit him again, and he half-blindly captured the pillow with one hand, his free arm searching then snaking around her waist to trap her close to himself.  
“Morning.” He laughed at her attempt to wiggle free.  
“Better let go.”  
“Nope.” He dropped the pillow he was holding and closed that arm around her as well.  
She writhed and he held even tighter. “You done?”  
There was a groan of defeat into his chest, and he kissed into her hair, waiting.  
“You’re so mean.” She pouted when she finally looked up.  
“I didn’t start this morning with pillow warfare.”  
“True.” She smirked.  
  
He loosened his grip and she folded her arms over his chest to rest her chin atop. Smiling grays met smiling browns. Lazy morning bliss on a Wednesday and they both seemed grateful.  
Even so, he could see the gears turning behind her eyes. “What’s wrong?”  
“Nothing really. It’s just so weird. It’s Wednesday. By now, I’m usually up, making coffee, rushing to get dressed while trying to read through a mountain of emails. And now...” she looked around the bedroom then back at him.  
  
“And now you’re here.” He finished her sentence with a content smile on his face.  
“Yes. I’m here. And without a job for the first time in almost... ten years.” She sat up, running her hands through her hair, or at least attempting to. She had forgotten to take out the elastic the night before and now her hair was a knotted mess.  
  
He laughed softly then helped her untangle before rubbing a hand up and down her back. “Sweetie. You’ll figure it out. You don’t have to worry too much right now. We’re leaving in less than two weeks. Enjoy the time off. Recharge. Do... fun stuff.” He suggested, his hand settling on her lower back.  
She looked over her shoulder down on him, a perked brow in tow. “Fun stuff.”  
  
“Yeah. Fun stuff.” He sat up as well, kissing her shoulder and squeezing her close. Gently because he felt the heating pad through her shirt. “Go see the city. We have everything here. Theaters, music venues, museums. You can go to an art exhibit in the morning and a concert at night. Go shopping. Buy clothes for the trip. Or get art supplies and paint. The U.N. headquarters aren’t far from here. I know, that’s something you’d probably enjoy seeing. And Manhattan is one...” He stopped. Not that he had much of a choice. She _-once again-_ had shut him up with a kiss, and he didn’t seem to mind, the way he hugged her even closer.  
  
A moment of silence followed; her palming his face, one thumb tracing his lips, gears still turning behind her grays. “I know all that. It’s just... it’s weird.”  
He hitched a breath then kissed into her palm. “Let it be weird. Give yourself a little bit of time to adjust. You’ll figure it out and before you know it, you’ll be busy again. And you’ll be hoping to catch a break. I mean, what better time to take a break than now. Your dad is getting married. Your sister is having twins. You’re at the beginning of a new career. And... a new life. Stop. Take a breath. Enjoy some time off.”  
  
“Hmmmm... that’s true, huh? I have to be honest.” She paused, looking around the bedroom, again. “A sabbatical does sound kind of nice. Besides, I actually do have things to keep me busy.” She smiled, eyes back on him.  
“Hmmmm. That.” He dropped back into his pillow and she followed.  
“You don’t like the office?” Her fingers traced over his chest.  
“I do. I love it. In fact, I’m impressed with how fast you work.” He raised a brow.  
“But?”  
  
“But... I don’t want you to think it’s something you have to do. Like ... I don’t know. Earning your keep or some shit like that.”  
She lifted her head, eyes wide and mouth agape for a moment. Then she started laughing. Hard. So much so, she snorted.  
“Why is that so funny?”  
“Lindo. First off, I know you’re not that kind of guy.” She laughed some more. “Second. I love doing this kind of work. And third... give and take is part of living together. I don’t know how to explain it but if you want me to stay, then I gotta pull my weight because there are two people living here. Just don’t expect any of the traditional housewife stuff.”  
  
He processed what she'd said then smirked. “So no pot roast and ironed newspaper waiting for me when I come home, huh?” He sassed and she pinched his chest.  
“Ass.” She rolled her eyes.  
“But I’m your ass.” He pulled her close and kissed her neck. A few more kisses then they laid face to face, him teasing her hair and features, a semi-serious expression on his face. “So... tell me. Did you have fun yesterday?”  
  
She nodded then recounted the previous day.  
“Figured A.J. helped with the desk and shelf. They’re heavy.”  
“What are you trying to say?” Elise squinted and Oscar laughed.  
“Nothing, Sweetie.” He chuckled.  
  
Some more silence while he curled a strand of her hair around his index. “What else did you do?” He curled the strand again, waiting.  
Her eyes cast down, her whole body following into a slumped posture.  
He stopped playing with her hair and lifted her head by the chin. “I promise, I won’t get upset.” He reassured because he assumed that that was the reason why she was holding back.  
“Just... stuff,” she whispered.  
He couldn’t help keeping a hold on her chin. His curiosity was sparked. Especially with such drastic shift in mood. “Sweetie?”  
  
Her mouth parted and she exhaled softly. “Sometimes, I feel like you know everything about me, and I know nothing about you. Like, I should’ve asked more questions.”  
He perked a surprised brow. “It’s not like I’m going anywhere anytime soon,” he chuckled.  
“I know that.”  
“But?”  
“I want you to know that you can share things with me.”  
“I do.”  
“Yes. You do. But I’m not just talking happy moments.”  
  
Oscar’s brows contracted, an array of memories flashing through his mind as he tried to divide the good from the bad. He had told her plenty about Lorraine. Natural disasters. His parents’ divorce. And then there was the current situation with his mom. There was no lack of sharing unhappy moments.  
  
Except... he had hardly talked about his friends. Not on purpose. Conversation hadn’t led much that way. Focus was more on getting to know the person in front. And he figured she didn’t ask because she seemed the type to prefer finding out for herself rather than hearing about someone through someone else.  
But now Elise was here, where he lived, and she had met one of his closest friends. It shouldn’t have come as a surprise that she would hear things. Things he would never bring up. At least not on his own.  
  
“I take it you talked about Kevin,” was the conclusion and Elise nodded.  
Oscar bit his lower lip and Elise gently palmed his face. “I... You ... We don’t have to talk about him now. Or ever. But... you’ve always listened to me go on about Joe. All I’m saying is, I’m here. When you’re happy AND when you’re sad. And if you ever want to talk about those days, I’m here, just like you’ve been for me.”  
This time, he palmed her face. “Thank you,” he whispered, leaning a kiss between her brows.  
  
A knock on the door interrupted their tender moment, Oscar huffing out a “What the fuck?”.  
Elise glanced at her watch and giggled. “Might be A.J.” she smirked.  
“This early?” Oscar propped himself up on his elbows and Elise scrunched her nose.  
“May have promised him lunch if we go to the home deco store early.”  
“Must be at a five star if he’s willing to get up before noon.” Oscar joked.  
“I’m telling on you.” Elise rolled out of bed and Oscar tossed a pillow after her.  
“Tell him to come back in an hour. I need snuggles.”  
“No. What you need to do is get up and get ready for your interview.”  
The response to that was a rumbled groan and she laughed.  
  
She made her way to the hallway, peering through the peephole, and indeed, A.J. was waiting on the other side of the door. Another glance and she snickered. “Looking comfy,” she smiled upon opening the door, giving A.J. a more detailed once-over; him wearing a baby-blue checkered shirt, red and black striped slacks, and scuffed up boots. And a brownish knit hat. All of it a bit odd but at least well fitted.  
  
A.J.’s mouth twisted. “You said, I can wear what is comfortable.” His voice carried a defensive squeak to it and Elise snickered again.  
“Aaaaaannnnd... I meant that.” She tried her best to hold a serious face but another snicker slipped out. It wasn’t so much about A.J.’s outfit as it was about the fact that he appeared quite jovial. The whole of it _-the outfit, the light glow to his cheeks, the spark behind his eyes-_ was... It was him. And she recognized that.  
  
She gestured for A.J. to enter, taking lead to the kitchen where she started the coffee machine, a snicker here and there whenever she glanced at a seated A.J.  
“Your woman’s being mean to me,” A.J. pouted when Oscar joined them in the kitchen a few minutes later; Oscar stopping dead in his tracks when he saw his friend.  
“Wow, dude!” Oscar’s eyes went wide.  
“You, too? What’s wrong with this?” A.J. hopped off the chair, doing a three-sixty and proudly showing off his outfit for the day, lighting enhancing clash of colors and patterns.  
  
There was a pause, Oscar being unsure how to answer. Or if he even should.  
“Like you’re any better. You should see Oscar when he shops without a stylist.” A.J. plopped back onto the chair, pouring himself some cereal into a big bowl and nibbling away.  
  
Elise glanced at Oscar, old pictures on recall. “A.J.’s not wrong.” She laughed, then grabbed three mugs from the cabinet, milk from the fridge, and a spoon from one of the drawers. She set the last two items in front of A.J., tilted head in tow, and he understood to eat a full meal and not just crunchy flakes.  
She snickered again, shaking her head, then paced around the kitchen island to where Oscar’s friend was sitting, ruffling whatever hair wasn’t hidden underneath his hat. “I like it.” She smiled, placing a peck on A.J.’s cheek, and he shied out a “thanks”.  
  
“I better get ready so we can head out.” She filled a mug with coffee, A.J. and Oscar staring after her when she disappeared to the bedroom with the mug in hand.  
A moment of silence settled then Oscar’s cell rang. A quick back and forth and he sighed. “Gotta get going.” He frowned. “Do me a favor.”  
A.J. nodded at the words, still chowing down on cereal.  
  
“Make sure she eats breakfast. And don’t let her pay for any of the supplies.” Oscar slid some cash towards A.J.  
A.J. halted a bite. “What if she insists?”  
Oscar’s eyes widened. “Then you’re on your own, dude.” He laughed and A.J.’s expression changed to fear. “Just kidding. I don’t know. Just tell her the money was already set aside.”  
“And lunch?”  
“That one, you better let her pay for.” Oscar winked then made his way downstairs.  
  
Not long after, Elise was back in the kitchen, some toast and cream cheese her choice for breakfast. “So how we getting around today?” She mumbled while A.J. rinsed his mug and bowl, and Oscar’s, including the dishes Oscar had left in the sink.  
“Borrowed a truck from a neighbor.” He replied, waiting for Elise to finish. He washed her stuff, too, then dried and stowed it all away.  
  
A.J.’s familiarity with Oscar’s place didn’t escape Elise. “Do you usually let yourself in?”  
A.J. shrugged. “I always knock first. If there’s no reply, I kind of ...” He shrugged again. “I mean, I always call out hello, you know. Don’t just peek behind doors. And usually only when I’m sure he’s alone. So I don’t walk in on stuff.” A.J. seemed abashed. Elise, on the other hand, sat a bit wide-eyed. “I don’t know. We always watch each other’s places when one of us is away. He shows up at my place whenever, too. It’s always been like that. At least until the other one.” A.J. paused, cringing at a disapproving glare. “I mean his ex.”  
“That’s better.” Elise’s face softened.  
  
She sat quietly for a moment, studying A.J. as he stowed away the last of the mugs. He seemed nice. A bit shy. A little odd, too. Maybe a little strayed. But overall, he seemed nice. Kind, actually. And caring. She could see why Oscar and he were friends for that reason alone.  
  
She hopped off the chair and paced towards A.J., squeezing his hand. “You’re always welcome here.” She smiled. “Just be sure to use the buzzer.”  
“Yes ma’am,” A.J. smirked knowingly. A squint from Elise and he laughed. “Oscar may have mentioned you don’t like being called that.”  
“I see. Well, he may just show up at your place more often if he keeps being a smartass.”  
They laughed then finally headed downstairs.  
  
The run to the home decor store was fairly quick. Elise knew exactly what she needed to finish Oscar’s office and what she needed for her corner. She contemplated to get a desk already but decided to wait. “Don’t want to bust through the budget.” She explained when A.J. raised a questioning brow at her decision. “But I do think we should get this.” She pointed towards the sales shelf and A.J. nodded in agreement. With a wide smile.  
  
On the way back, they stopped at a French Bistro for the promised lunch; A.J. ordering himself chicken cordon bleu, and Elise a dish heavy on scallop and shrimp.  
Occasionally, A.J. would look towards the waitress servicing their table, quickly steering away when the waitress smiled their way.  
“She’s cute.” Elise leaned in to whisper and A.J. just nodded.  
Just then, the waitress came their way, water pitcher in hand, and A.J. gulped.  
“The usual for dessert?”  
  
Elise perked a brow. “What’s the usual?”  
“New York style cheesecake topped with raspberries and white chocolate truffles.” The waitress smiled, and A.J. bit his lower lip.  
Elise tilted her head, a knowing smile growing on her face. “Violet, right? _*the waitress nodded*_ The usual sounds perfect.”  
“Plate to share or separate desserts?” Violet topped off their waters, waiting and still smiling.  
“Separate!” Was the uniform reply.  
“Coming right up.” Violet walked away and Elise could’ve sworn there was a hint of relief in the waitress’s step.  
  
Elise perked her brow again, smiling wider than ever.  
A.J. hung his head, trying to hide an abashed smile. “What?”  
“She likes you.”  
A.J.’s eyes darted towards Violet then back at the table. “Yeah right.”  
“And you like her,” Elise smirked. “You should give her your number.”  
“Uhmmmm...”  
“Uhmmmm what?”  
“She’s way too pretty.”  
“Too pretty for?”  
A.J. rolled his eyes. “To be single.”  
Now Elise rolled her eyes. “You won’t know until you give her your number.”  
  
“Uhmmm...” A.J. fidgeted with his fork.  
Elise peered over her shoulder and saw Violet heading back their way, balancing the desserts on one arm. “Give her your number,” Elise whispered through a tightened smile, but A.J. shook his head. “Doooooo it!” Elise persisted.  
  
“Two slices of New York style cheesecake topped with raspberries and white chocolate truffles.” Violet set the desserts on the table, smiling at A.J. “Is there anything else I can help you with?”  
An awkward silence settled. Not even a stepped on foot seemed to break that. Nor a _//go for it//_ stare.  
Elise squinted at A.J., then smiled warmly at Violet. “My friend wants to know if he could give you his number.” She blurted out, and A.J.’s eyes shot wide open.  
  
He nervously pushed his glasses up at the bridge of his nose, ready to apologize.  
“Sure.” Violet beamed. “But I won’t be able to call until my shift ends.”  
“Oh... Alright. Ok. That’s ok. Or... or... you can call whenever... you know. No pressure.” A.J. stammered out. He wrote his number onto a napkin, trembling, and handed it to Violet.  
“Is that a six or an eight?”  
“Uhm... uhm... a six. I... I can write it down again.”  
Violet pulled her cell from her apron, hurriedly adding the number to her contacts. “Should be good.” She smiled. “I’ll call you later. A.J., right?”  
A.J. nodded, smiling with cast down eyes because he was too shy to look at Violet.  
“Alright. So nothing else? Would you like me to bring you the check?”  
“Yes, please,” Elise answered.  
  
Another moment of silence before A.J. started on his slice of cake, slouched shoulders and still trembling a little.  
“Told you so.” Elise chuckled.  
“You’re trouble.” A.J.’s nose wrinkled. “But, thank you.” He smiled while finishing his cake.  
  
They arrived back at the apartment building shortly after three, Elise cussing when she realized that she had forgotten about two little facts: the place didn’t have an elevator and Oscar’s apartment was all the way at the top.  
“This is karma, huh?” Her lips twisted and A.J. laughed.  
“For earlier? You know it.”  
  
Luckily, they only needed two trips.  
“How do you guys deal with big shopping trips?” Elise wheezed when they made their way back upstairs the second time, her carrying several bags.  
“Store to house delivery is an awesome concept,” A.J. smirked, carrying four more long shelves.  
“You mean, I could’ve had all this delivered?” Elise whined when they reached the top level landing.  
“Yup.”  
“Thanks for letting me know.” She dropped the bags and A.J. laughed again. “You’re trouble, too, you know that.” She stated matter of factly and A.J. laughed even more.  
  
After a short break, they got to work. The running shelf concept was easy enough. They installed the whole thing in less than an hour, even with the shelves needing 45-degree corners. The masking tape was easily removed and tarps were easily folded. Vacuuming the room was a necessity. So was cleaning the windows.  
  
They were so occupied with tidying up the space that neither heard the turn of the key. “Geez. You really want your tools back, huh?” Oscar chuckled after observing them for a while, both _-A.J. and Elise-_ jumping at his voice.  
“What’s it with people sneaking around?” Elise’s brows pulled tight.  
“I didn’t sneak.”  
  
They exchanged squinted stares then Oscar captured Elise by her waist, pulling her in for a kiss. “I missed you.”  
“Yeah?”  
“Yeah.” He rested his forehead on her shoulder.  
“I think that’s my cue to leave.” A.J. wiggled his brows. Just then his cell went off. A questioning hello at an unknown number was followed by an ear-to-ear smile. “Gotta take this.” A.J. smiled an abashed smile. “See you guys tomorrow?”  
“Sure thing.” Elise wiggled her brows.  
  
Oscar chuckled, somewhat confused. “What’s that all about?”  
“What?”  
“The call.”  
“Oh. It’s probably Violet.”  
“From the bistro?”  
“Yeah. You know her?”  
“Shit. I’ve been telling him to ask her out... for... half a year or so!”

Elise shrugged, pacing towards the kitchen, Oscar following. He pulled her close again, studying browns meeting knowing grays. “How’d you do it?”  
“Do what?”  
“Convince him.”  
She shrugged, biting her lower lip to avoid answering.  
“Come on.” He leaned in, kissing her neck. “Tell me.” He whispered and she giggled.  
"Maybe once they've gone out for a while."  
"You seriously gonna make me wait?"  
"Patience is a virtue." Her brows lifted and he nibbled her neck.  
"Smartass."  
 


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry that this took so long. I got sidetracked with writing another multi-chapter and other projects. O_O  
> Also, it stalled because I've got the ending written already, and the how to get there already mapped out. In my mind, the story is finished. Of course, it isn't for my readers. Lol. 
> 
> Hopefully, I'll be able to move forward now that I've picked up the thread.  
> Thank you for sticking around.

A hot breath shot out and eyes popped open. Heavy pants followed.  
The beads of cold sweat that came with moments like this were already present. They had been for a while.  
  
It took a minute before realization set in that it had been nothing but a dream. That the haunting images from a few seconds ago weren’t real. Even so, the fear that the dream had brought clung on sharply, making it impossible to lull back to sleep.  
Restless mind and restless body left only one option: getting out of bed before someone else’s sleep was interrupted. After all, peaceful sleep was still a commodity that they both very much needed. So why should both suffer from lack of whenever one woke up?  
  
At least, that was what he told himself when he carefully slipped out from under the covers a few minutes later. He was sure, she would have understood him squeezing her close for comfort, but she was still catching up on true rest, and he didn’t dare take that from her.  
  
He paced to the kitchen, slipping into a shirt on the way there, then poured himself some water once at the fridge. He sipped, leaning against the counter, and scanned over the open layout of his apartment. A soft chuckle at the scattered and partially open boxes throughout followed.  
  
They’d been unpacking to keep the process of finishing his office going. If it hadn’t been for nostalgia evoked debates over best video- and board games, they’d probably have gotten done, too. But somehow - _as the debates went on_ -, the evening had ended with both sitting cross-legged opposite each other while eating Chinese food from takeout boxes; their laughter echoing through the apartment while playing _Operation_. Neither had seemed a capable player, the buzzer going off relentlessly no matter whose turn it was.  
  
_“You’re cheating.”  
“How am I cheating?”  
“I think, you put the pieces intentionally close to the edges.”  
“Wouldn’t I be cheating myself, then?”  
“Hmm... mmmmaybe.. or maybe you just wanted to get undressed. Not that I’m complaining. Quite enjoying the view.”  
“Same.”  
“Stop that.”  
“What?”  
“Your brow. Stop it, Oscar! I’m warning you...”  
“Awe. I just want a kiss.”  
“I can’t. Not.... ye...huhhhhh.”  
“Just. One. Kiss.”_  
  
He chuckled again, his sight still on the boxes and still leaning against the counter, but mind very much caught up with last night. The fact that they’d turned _Operation_ into a strip-poker type of game amused him. He pondered what other board games he could use to his advantage like that in the future.

He snickered at himself because he, indeed, had placed the pieces too close to the metal edges. And if it hadn’t been for certain things of nature, he was sure, they’d have tumbled across the floor a few times over. Although he did admit, the make-out session he’d gotten instead, had been a fair trade in. Anything to feel her skin below his lips really always was a fair trade in.  
He smiled softly at the images and hoped for more evenings like that, then his mind returned to the now.  
  
He placed the glass of water on the counter and paced back to the bedroom to check if she was still asleep. Rhythmic breathing was all the confirmation he needed then he made his way to the sofa, quietly shifting boxes so he’d have a space to sit down. A little more shifting of things and he was able to reach his vintage 1966 Fender and the amp to attach it to. Along with his over-the-head headphones. Not much longer after that, and he was lost in chords and muted hums, unaware of her watching him, because, unbeknownst to him, his restlessness hadn’t gone unnoticed by her.  
  
His body shaking awake had woken her at the same time, but she’d decided to let him collect his thoughts. Even when he’d gotten up, she figured it’d be best to leave him be for a little bit. She had waited patiently for his return, of course, ready to curl herself around him, but when she’d caught him checking in on her - _her pretending to be fast asleep_ -, she knew he’d not come back to bed for a while.  
  
So, quiet like him, - _and shortly after he'd checked in on her_ \- she'd gotten up, wrapping his cardigan around herself as she'd paced to the bedroom door, where she now stood silent while observing him.  
He was entirely unaware of her presence. Unsurprising really. His eyes were closed and all outside noise likely muted by the thickly padded headphones. She chuckled softly at the sight. The bridge of his headphones squished down on his curls and his head bobbed, lips parting ever so lightly whenever he seemed to hit a certain note only to mute himself with a strained hum while plugging hard at the strings.  
  
Whatever he was playing must have been so familiar to him that he didn’t need to watch fingers, fretboard, or strings. He relied solely on sense memory. The fact that he was completely immersed made her heart skip a beat or two. Even more so whenever his face contracted and released in content, his teeth tugging on his bottom lip as to not make a sound. 

She knew that face. She’d seen it before. And she’d felt it before. Usually against her neck. But she’d never seen it like this. Not while playing music, which made her wonder what song he was playing that he’d make the same face as when making love. It made her wonder so much so, it took everything to deny the urge to walk up to him and ask. Watching him play, completely lost in the moment, was more important right then.  
  
He stopped, eyes still closed as he pushed a heavy breath through his nose. Another breath before his eyes opened and before he chanced a fleeting glance to the bedroom door. He saw her standing there, a smile on her face, and he smiled back. He swept off his headphones and turned off the amp. “Sorry, Sweetie. Did I wake you?” His brows contracted with concern, but she just shook her head.  
  
“I’ve been awake for a while,” she whispered, not knowing why. There wasn’t anyone else in the apartment. Just them. Even at normal level, her voice would still only be audible to him. Peculiar how nighttime called for lowered voices. Maybe it was to not startle their minds. Or maybe it was exactly because of this type of moment, where things felt a bit like a dream. Slightly hazy with the quiet of the night. Slightly unreal because who plays music at three in the morning? And who just watches on in silence when they can’t even hear the song? Either way, middle of the night called for lowered voices, so she whispered.  
  
He smiled, again, and leaned the guitar on the sofa, an unspoken invitation for her to join him, and she accepted. “You don’t have to plug in the headphones when you play.”  
“Hmmmm... I didn’t want to wake you. And yes, I know, you said you’ve been awake for a while, but...” His words trailed off when he pulled her hand up for a kiss.  
She detailed his brows with her free hand, the urge to ask what song he’d been playing still at the back of her mind. But she ventured that maybe another reason he’d played using headphones was that he didn’t want her to hear the song he'd picked, so she refrained from asking. For now, at least.  
  
He kissed her hand again, his eyes squeezing shut as he pushed another heavy breath through his nose onto her skin. He held her hand for a while like that, and she instantly knew that his restlessness was more than a bad dream and that him playing guitar hadn’t alleviated whatever thoughts were clinging onto his mind.  
  
She palmed his cheek, stubble scratching her skin, and he looked up with a thin smile and sad eyes, an anxious tension in his posture.  
“What’s wrong?” Her brows furrowed and he let go of her hand.  
“I love you.”  
“I know.”  
  
He reclaimed her hand, kissing it again and again and again, and she started growing concerned. “Oscar, what’s wrong?”  
He gulped, hitching a breath, his eyes shifting to the hardwood floor. She squeezed his thigh with her free hand and he refocused on her; her eyes stern in a //tell me// way. “My mom is sick.”  
  
It was her who hitched a breath this time. Clearly, he’d gotten news about results and had been holding off to tell her. She cussed at herself for not having noticed his uncharacteristically growing silence over the last few days sooner. Then again, he’d been busy and she figured he was tired, his body catching up with an increased workload that came with prepping for a new movie. “How sick?”  
“Uhmmm....” Oscar’s voice trembled and Elise squeezed his thigh again. “Something with her kidneys. She’ll be getting medication. But eventually, she’ll need dialysis, and...”  
“A transplant?”  
“Yes.” Oscar’s jaw clenched and Elise knew there was more.  
“What else?”  
“Uhm... well, because of her age...” he couldn’t finish.  
“She’s not a priority.” Elise assumed and Oscar nodded in confirmation.  
  
Suddenly, nighttime wasn’t a dreamy haze. Suddenly, it was eerie and all too real. Especially with the short silence that settled. “What about you? Wouldn’t you or your siblings qualify as direct donors?” She didn't whisper this time. Her mind was wide awake now, racing, so her voice was too.   
“Yes. I mean, we’d have to get tested first...” Oscar paused again, a reluctant  //but// on the tip of his tongue, and the way his eyes welled up, Elise had an idea of what that //but// might be.  
“Your mom told you no.”  
  
Oscar pulled Elise’s hand back to his lips, leaving a trembled kiss on her skin, nodding, and she palmed his face, again. She sorted through thoughts. Words of //I’m so sorry// and //we’ll figure this out// caught at the back of her throat, but nothing seemed appropriate. Nothing, except pulling him into a tight embrace with tender hands rubbing up and down his back and caressing his curls to let him know that it was ok to let go. And he did, heavy tears soaking through the cardigan and trembling arms holding her the closest he’d ever held her.  
  
“I don’t know what I’m going to do without her.” He mumbled some time later, still holding on tight. “She’s my mom. My mom. I can’t even...” The tears that seemed to have waned for a while returned full force.  
Elise kissed into Oscar’s curls and he sat up straight. She thumbed away some of his tears, her heart aching to see him so despaired. “Do you want me to talk to her?”  
  
Oscar shook his head. “She’ll say no. Her mind’s made up. Dad already talked to her. Mike... Nicole... My uncle... Everyone. She’s so .... so... stubborn.” His hands clenched into tight fists and anger spread to his face.  
Elise sat back and let him work through the moment.  
“Sorry.” He whispered when he became aware.  
“Don’t be. You have every right to be upset.”  
“I’m not upset.”  
“No. You’re furious.”  
He shook his head in annoyance, and she, once again, let him work through.  
  
She squeezed his hand, knowing grays searching for tired browns. “There is nothing I can say that will make this easier, so I won’t,” she started, her mind racing again, “so, I guess my question is, what can we do?”  
Oscar’s brows furrowed. “What do you mean, **_what can we do_**?” The question was laced with more annoyance and anger, but Elise didn’t take it personally. He'd clearly misunderstood her intention.  
  
“I mean, your mom is going to need help. Especially when she starts dialysis. So what can we do to help her? Do you ... do you want to move to Florida? Do you want her to move here? Move in with us? Or get her an apartment? And do you want me to stay behind and take care of her while you're in Spain? Or do you want her to come along?” Elise kept her voice soft but firm. Her gaze, too. But there was more behind it. Gears turning. She was already thinking three steps ahead. Options and solutions to //what can we do?//, all of which took him somewhat off guard.   
  
He sat perplexed, unsure how to reply. “I can’t ask you...”  
Elise hitched a breath. “You asked me to marry you, which means, I get to be part of your family, just like you’ll be part of mine.”  
“Liz. This is going to be...”  
“Tough? Yeah. I know...” Elise gulped, her own composure failing. “I watched my mom die. I know exactly how tough this is going to be. So don’t you dare... don’t you dare tell me off, because... I know. I know the pain. And I know the frustration when they don’t want help. And when they’ve already made their choice. I know. So don’t tell me off,” she whispered the last part, her own tears edging up. At the memories and at the path ahead. This time he pulled her in for an embrace and she let go.  
  
When there weren’t any tears left, they sat in silence, her with her arms around him and face buried in his chest; him playing with strands of her hair, leaving the occasional kiss on top of her head. “I want to move her here. I’m sure I can find an apartment for her. Close to us. I know she’ll want to keep her independence. And I want her to come along. If she can get medical help in Spain, I want her to be there. See the world.”  
“Then that’s what we’ll do,” Elise whispered.  
“You sure you don’t mind?”  
Elise sat up, lips pulling into a tired but sly smile, like mischief mixing with support. “Yes. Especially since I’ll be getting more stories on you and Mike. And pictures.”  
Oscar laughed softly, shaking his head. “I see how it is.”  
  
He curled the same strand one more time then let go of her. “Let’s go back to bed.”  
“Hmmmm.... yes... let’s.” She’d already pulled herself to a stand when he wrapped his arms back around her, pressing his face into her tummy.  
“Thank you,” he mumbled, and she raked her fingers through his curls.  
“For what?”  
His face lifted to look at her. “Being you.”  
She thumbed his lips and smiled. “Bedtime.”  
  
When he came to a few hours later, she was already up. Scents of vanilla and butter coaxed him to follow suit. And so did her voice singing along to “ _She’s got the Look_ ”.  
He laughed when he caught her lift a waffle from the waffle iron while dancing along to Roxette’s song, wrapped once again in his cardigan, hints of turquoise silk peaking through now and then. And when she pretended the fork to be a mic. Obviously, she hadn’t noticed him observing her or else she’d not have gone into a spin.  
  
“Heeeeeyyyyy youuuuuu...” She stopped halfway in, tossing the fork on the island.  
“What are you doing?” He snickered at her wide-eyed stare.  
“What’s it look like? Making breakfast of course.” Her voice squeaked a bit and he laughed.  
“Yeah? Hmmmm... looked like you were practicing for karaoke night.” He winked and she stuck out her tongue.  
  
An alarm went off and she rushed past him to the hallway, him looking after her when she hurried to the bedroom shortly after only to return with, what looked like, one of his suitcases from Montreal. He followed her, perked brow and crossed arms when he found her next to washer and dryer. “Sweetie... uhm... you don’t have to wash my clothes.”  
  
“I know I don’t have to.” She quickly gathered darks from the suitcase and tossed the heap into the washer, measuring detergent to add.  
Oscar scratched over his stubble, lips turning downward in disapproval. “Ok. Then...”  
“Because you’re busy and I’m here. And I figure you’d want your clothes clean before we have to leave next week.” She answered before he could ask why.  
He hitched a breath, and she picked up a basket filled with already dry clothes.  
“Alright, how about I fold these and you check on the waffles.” He swooped the basket from her hands and she ran back to the kitchen.  
  
He shook his head in amusement and followed back. He folded his clothes with a snicker and she perked a //What?// brow. “You really don’t have to do this, you know. I can clean up after myself.”  
“I hope so.” She lifted another waffle from the iron and he laughed.  
“Thank you, though. I appreciate it.”  
  
He folded some more and she made more waffles. When he was finished, he took a seat by the island, and she set up plates and coffee mugs. Three each. “For when A.J. shows up.” She scrunched her nose and Oscar smiled.  
“So what’s the plan for today?”  
“Well, Olivia called earlier. She’s going to take me shopping for Friday’s event.” Elise filled the mugs with fresh coffee before gearing to the fridge for fresh milk, blueberries, and whipped cream. “Oh, and Ned sent a text. He said he’d love to come along on Friday, but he’ll be needing a lift.”  
“That can be arranged.” Oscar smiled. He took a sip from his coffee, studying Elise over the rim of the cup before setting the cup back down. “If Olivia is taking you shopping, I should give you a card.” He reached for his wallet farther down the island, fingers already on one of the cards within.  
  
That offer was a mistake.  
“I don’t want your money.” Elise perked an offended brow.  
“I know, Sweetie. But... please just hear me out. I know Olivia. She’ll take you to Manhattan. It’s expensive there. And I mean _expensive_.” He pulled the chosen card and placed it in front of himself.  
“I know it is.”  
“Ok. And I know you. You’ll end up not buying the thing if you think it costs too much. So... take the card, just in case. You don’t have to use it.” He slid the plastic rectangle her way and she slid it back.  
“Ok, just one little problem. Your card, your name. So regardless, I won’t be able to use it.”  
“It’s not my card. It’s yours.”  
  
She inhaled sharply, another perked brow in tow. “Excuse me?”  
He slid the card back to her, and she picked it up, inspecting the raised letters. That was her name alright. She shook her head, frowning. “Why’d you do that?”  
“Because living in New York is expensive.”  
“And I have money!”  
“Yes, you do. Which you’ll be using for your startup. And to pay your rent in Seattle. And whatever else. Look, Sweetie. It’s not a big deal. I trust you. I know you won’t clean out my account. And even if you hit the daily cap, splurging is ok now and then. Just let me know if you need more than two K. I’ll have the daily limit raised.”  
  
She raised a //what the fuck// brow at the number, like she’d ever spend that much in a single day, and he chuckled, fully aware she’d never. She traced over her name again, still frowning. “You should’ve asked me, though. I mean credit score and such. Shared finances are kind of a big deal.”  
He hitched a breath, processing her reasons. “You’re right. I should’ve asked. But... if I had financial problems, I’d not have gotten you a card.”  
She squinted then hummed a sigh. “Alright. I do want to see the terms and agreements from your bank, though.” Elise served the waffles at last.  
  
Oscar shook his head and laughed.  
“Why is that funny?” Elise quirked a brow.  
“It’s not. I was laughing because... you remind me of your brother-in-law.”  
“I don’t know if I should be honored or offended.”  
“It’s a compliment, Sweetie. You both know what to look out for. It’s a good thing.” Oscar became serious. “I wouldn’t want you to go into anything blindly. Especially when it comes to big things like finances or living together or deciding to take care of a family member. I’m glad you question things.”  
She stood perplexed. “Why?”  
  
He got off his chair and made his way around the island to where she was standing, one index running down her nose before detailing her lips with the same. “Because, if you didn’t, I’d be worried you don’t care. I mean, yeah, don’t second guess everything. Live a little. But I’m glad you question the big picture things. It means you care. Not just about me, but your own goals. And like you said, there’s two people in this relationship. Questioning the big picture things keeps things balanced. And honest. And hopefully open to compromises.”  
  
He traced over her lips, placing a tender kiss, and she smiled into the kiss. “So two K, hmmmm.....?” She squinted and he laughed.  
“Planning on taking advantage already, huh?” He lifted a pretended stern brow.  
“I could never.”  
“Wait until you see the price tags of designer clothes.” Oscar scrunched up his nose and Elise laughed.  
She contemplated. “I could just wear one of my dresses.”  
“You could.” He wiggled his brows and she knew that he had a dress or two in mind.  
“Then again, I prefer to keep certain dresses for really special occasions. If I wear them too often, I’ll ruin the fabric.”  
  
He returned to his chair and waited for her to take a seat. “Special occasions? Like?”  
“Anniversaries.” She bit into a waffle first and he followed.  
His eyes went wide, a smile spreading across his face .“Hmmm... these are good.”  
“They should be. They’re from your book.” She smiled with a wink, and he - _for whatever reason_ \- turned red at the ears.  
“So. Anniversaries. What do you consider our first?”  
“Hmmm...” Her eyes cast down, cheeks turning pink, and he waited, but all she offered was a shrug.  
  
“I know which date I’d pick.” He smiled, already eyeing another waffle before he’d even finished the first.  
She quirked a curious brow. “Really? Which date?”  
“April 18th,” was an instant answer. No second guessing on his face.  
“The day I left for India?” Her voice pitched in surprise.  
He propped up his elbows, folding one hand over the other, chin resting on hands and a big smile on face. “The day you said “I love you” for the first time.”  
  
Her eyes cast down, again, the pink hue spreading from cheeks to the rest of her face while she nodded.  
“What day would you pick?” He asked with a smirk because he guessed she thought he’d pick something different. Not that he hadn’t considered the option. She stayed quiet and he chuckled. “Let me guess. April 12th? Or maybe the 13th? I think it was past midnight.”  
She scrunched her nose, her body tingling at the memory of that night. “Hmmmm... yes. But I think... I think the eighteenth is perfect,” she shied out and he reached for her hand.  
“Ok, April 18th it is.”  
  
Another alarm interrupted and she dashed for the hallway, him chuckling when she returned with another basket filled with dry clothes. “Well... Get to it. Clothes don’t fold themselves.” She stood with one hand on hip, and he stuffed the last of his second waffle into his mouth.  
“Yes ma’am,” he muffled with a wide grin and she tossed a pair of socks his way.  
  
She cleaned the kitchen and he folded clothes, him offering a mischievous wink now and then and she an amused roll of the eye. A knock on the door pulled them from their rhythm.  
“Just a minute!” Elise yelled towards the door, rushing to put on some pants and a shirt before opening the door.  
“Bad time?” A.J. grinned ear to ear when he was met with huffed breaths.  
“No. You’re late.”  
“I am? Nine is usually early.” A.J. joked.  
“Yeah, well not where I’m from. Anyways. Coffee is cold. So are the waffles.”  
“That’s why microwaves exist.”  
  
Like the day before, A.J. made his way to the kitchen. And like the day before, his familiarity didn’t go unnoticed. He quickly re-heated his coffee. Waffles went into the toaster for a minute or two. The fact that A.J. wasn’t at all fazed by Oscar only wearing t-shirt and briefs somehow solidified Elise’s fondness of A.J.   
“So, what are we up to today?” A.J. sipped on some coffee, eyes going back and forth between Elise and Oscar.  
  
“Got another interview. And a read through. But I should be back in the afternoon” Oscar rolled up the last of his socks.  
“Shopping.” Elise grabbed the waffles from the toaster, setting them on the plate she’d set out for A.J. earlier, adding blueberries on the side and a heap of whipped cream.  
“We’re not painting your corner today?” A.J. nibbled away on some blueberries.  
  
“Not until the boxes are unpacked.” Elise tilted her head to the open living room. “So maybe this weekend?” This time she looked between faces and the men nodded in agreement. A chime and she reached for her cell on the island. "Well, I better get ready. Olivia says she wants to meet at noon at 100th West, 33rd Street. Wherever that is.” Elise looked over her cell’s display with drawn down brows and the men stood amused.  
“Maybe I should come along.” A.J. offered with a snicker.  
“Why? Where is it?”  
“Midtown Manhattan.”  
“Oh. So it’s far?”  
“Yes and no. It is outside of what you’ve seen so far. I doubt you’d get lost but to be on the safe side. I can show you a few more routes as well.”  
Elise nodded in agreement. “As long you don’t mind.”  
  
“Hmmm...” Oscar’s lips curled when he looked up the address on his cell. “I better call the bank.” He laughed.  
“Why?”  
“100th West, 33rd. That’s the Manhattan Mall.” The creases around his eyes deepened and Elise stuck out her tongue.  
“Ass.” She grabbed her coffee and made her way to the bedroom.  
“I’m your ass,” Oscar called after her and she laughed.  
  
“So, A.J.” Oscar’s attention shifted to his friend. He grinned, a knowing spark in his eyes. “Violet, huh?”  
A.J.’s eyes went wide, him taking a big sip from his coffee to drag out the wait. “She made me!” He pointed to the bedroom door and Oscar laughed.  
“Figured.”


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations are in brackets. Quite a bit of German this time, and some Spanish.

When Oscar returned in the early evening, the hideaway staircase was drawn. He heard voices, then laughter, then more voices. Music, too. Then the scent of something grilled crawled up his nose, and he wondered how long they’d been back.  
A quick glance down the hallway towards the guest bathroom and he internalized a laugh of his own.  
  
An abundance of bags littered the floor, and by the many names attached, he could tell they’d been exploring more than just the Manhattan Mall.  
His mind went straight to A.J.  
Oscar probably owed him big time for tagging along to what his friend likely thought was supposed to be a quick and done trip. A swift count of paper and plastic and Oscar knew that it had been anything but, and he pictured A.J. getting crushed carrying the girls’ stuff.  
  
He internalized another laugh then made his way to the bedroom and changed. Comfortable in basketball shorts and an old tee, he grabbed a beer from the fridge then made his way up to the roof at last. When he reached the shed-like structure, he halted and smiled. The bulb had been replaced, and on top of one of the shelves laid a few boxes with spares along with another rather large, wrapped box. He searched for a corner to see if he could get a glimpse of what’s inside, but it was taped up tight where ends met. No wiggle room to get a hint so he left it be for now.  
  
Oscar stepped through the door, a cheery “Hey Lindo!” coming his way from the far side across. Elise beamed ear to ear when she met him halfway on his way to her, her arms closing around his waist while he kissed into her hair.  
“Sorry I’m late,” he whispered and she stepped back.  
She palmed over his stubble and kissed the tip of his nose. “It’s ok.” Her brows contracted lightly in concern when she noted the dark circles under his eyes. “I hope you don’t mind. I told Olivia she could come up after we were done shopping. And A.J. said we should grill. So, kind of went with an impromptu barbeque with whatever we had in the fridge.”  
  
Oscar shook his head, eyes wrinkling upwards at the corners. “I don’t mind, Sweetie. Actually starving.” He kissed her nose this time. She let go of his waist and they crossed the roof to the old garden furniture hand in hand. “Who put up the lights?” Oscar pointed to the string lights by the wall closest to the seating options.  
“Your fiancée did.” Olivia grinned, getting up and hugging Oscar.  
“Not surprised.” He winked at Elise. He took a sip from his beer, contemplating. “So. How big is the damage?” He chuckled, and Elise stuck out her tongue. She knew exactly what he meant.  
  
“Don’t worry, Oscar. Most of the bags are mine.” Olivia sat back down. “In fact, your girl kept crunching numbers the whole time. Got some great deals. I’m sure my accountant will thank her later.” The actress laughed and Oscar hummed, taking a seat.  
He tugged on Elise’s hand to sit down with him, kissing the side of her head when she did.  
Olivia’s smile widened as she looked between the couple. “Sooooo... Engaged. When’s the wedding?”  
Elise snickered. “We still haven’t decided on a date. But Fall would be nice.” She gazed at Oscar and he nodded.  
  
“You guys should get married September 22.” A.J. chimed in standing next to a small grill. “Autumn equinox.” He flipped an aluminum pouch.  
“That’s kind of fast.” Elise pointed out.  
“You don’t say. I meant next year. I know weddings take time to plan.” A.J. grabbed a plate and stacked four aluminum pouches atop, aiming for a glass container next.  
Oscar rubbed over his face, nodding again. “Yeah... yeah... Sweetie. Let’s do that. September 22, 2016. It’ll be warm enough to have the wedding outside like you want.” He smiled, and she sat somewhat wide-eyed.  
“You remembered that?”  
“Of course.”  
She tugged on her bottom lip with her teeth, blood rushing to her cheeks. “OK. Alright. September 22 it is.” She moused out.  
  
“Yay.” Olivia clapped her hands then reached forward to squeeze the couple’s faces. “All we need now is location, flowers, dress, food...” She rattled down the list of things needed, and this time Oscar sat wide-eyed. He peered to Elise and she snickered.  
“Don’t worry, Lindo. A year should be plenty of time to get all these things ready. That reminds me. I should probably call Helen and see how she’s dealing with her wedding. Falling behind on my maid of honor duties.”  
  
“Hmmm... maid of honor, huh? So does that mean you’ll wear one of those puffy dresses?” A.J. smirked, flipping a steak this time.  
Elise’s eyes went wide. “If I do, I’ll make sure the groomsmen wear the ugliest suits, that’s for sure. Mc Hammer style, too.”  
“What’s wrong with parachute pants?” A.J. squeaked.  
“And that’s why he’s been single for so long.” Oscar laughed. So did the girls.  
  
A.J.’s shoulders slouched. “Violet says she likes them.”  
Everyone went quiet. Elise got up and ambled towards A.J., cupping his cheek. “If she does, then that’s all that matters.” Elise kissed A.J. ’s cheek and his face lit up. “Besides, if we’re talking fashion crimes, let’s not forget those silver pants. Or the blue hair.” Elise squinted at Oscar and the group fell back into laughter.  
  
They laughed some more, Oscar reminding Elise of the carrot look she’d sported at one point in her life. Then they ate. Grilled veggies and steaks the main course. And, since the coals were still hot, s’mores for dessert.  
A few long yawns later, and just past sunset, Olivia called it a night. “I know those types of yawns. Long days.” She hugged Oscar, whispering something into his ear, and he chuckled. She went on to hug Elise, promising to be at the event the next day. “We get to hang out while your man has to work.” The actress snickered and so did Elise. “Come on, Augustus. I need your muscles.”  
“You told her?” A.J.’s voice squeaked, again.  
“Just because I like your name.” Elise smiled, kissing A.J.’s cheek again, and he shook his head with a shy smile.  
  
Elise showed her friends out the door then returned to the roof. The string-lights offered enough illumination for her to see Oscar nursing a second beer while he looked across the Brooklyn skyline over the wall. A few times, he ran his free hand over his face, heaving a breath.  
  
Elise paced his way, rubbing a hand down his back when she reached him, and he offered a tired smile. “You ok?” He nodded, taking another sip, line of sight back on the skyline. She ran an index over his jawline and gently forced his head to turn her way. Tiredness mixed with sadness, and she could feel her heart drop. “I’m here. I want you to know that. If you need to talk. I’m here.”  
  
He caressed her face and pulled her close, kissing between her brows. “I know.” He kissed her again. He loosened his hold, both turning to stand side by side, his arm around her waist, her head on the side of his chest. They watched dusk give way for night, a few deep breaths in between. “Did you have fun today?” He asked after a while.  
She smiled into his side. “I did.”  
  
“Good.” His mood lifted at her response. “How’d you like Manhattan? Well, Midtown?”  
Elise’s eyes went wide. She took a step back like she needed space to talk about her day. “It was crazy. I don’t think, I’ve ever seen so many people. Or so many stores. Or tall buildings. I mean, Seattle is big, but New York... New York is New York. And Manhattan... just... And it’s so loud. Music comes from everywhere. And so much food. I think I ate my weight in samples today. And cheesecake. Did you know Madison Square Garden is like right there? And the MoMA is a few blocks up? And Radio City Music Hall? And Time’s Square? I mean, of course, you know. But it’s like right there. And we were right next to the Empire State. Ohhhh... I was so tempted to go up there. But I didn’t want to without you. And oh my god, the New York Public Library...” She moved her hands in wild gestures to show size and numbers, and he laughed at her excitement.  
  
She pushed against his chest, quirking a //what?// brow, and he pulled her in for another kiss to her forehead. “You’re adorable.”  
“Shut up.”  
“No. I mean it. You’re adorable. A lot of people take things for granted. Including myself. New York is New York to me. But to you, it’s **_NEW YORK_**. I love this. I love seeing you like this. I love you.” He swept an index down her cheek and she blushed.  
“I love you, too.” She moused out, head leaning center against his chest, arms wrapping around his waist, and he laughed, again. Softer, but still.  
  
“Now what?” She mumbled into his shirt, and he lifted her head by the chin.  
“Liv said to ask what’s in the red bag.” Oscar’s eyes sparked with mischief, and Elise pushed him back at the chest. “That’s a secret.”  
“Victoria’s secret?” He wiggled his brows.  
“If you promise to behave, I’ll show you.”  
His eyes narrowed and he contemplated. “Hmmmmm.... what exactly do you mean: behave?”  
She shrugged with a sly smile and took off to the shed, leaving him standing perplexed.  
  
When he finally managed his way downstairs, the living room lights were dimmed, and she was already in the bedroom, soft rustling an indicator that she was changing.  
The door stood angled, but aside an occasional shadow, he couldn’t see her.  
  
“Go sit down.” She instructed after catching him trying to sneak a peek.  
“I don’t get to watch you change?”  
“Go sit down!” She repeated. Firmer this time. “On the sofa!”  
He did as told. With a laugh. “Yes, ma’am.”  
“Do you want to see me wearing this or not?” She called out.  
“Yes.” He bit his tongue as to not snicker at her annoyed tone, then waited.  
“Are you sitting down?”  
“Yes.”  
“Good... Now, remember... Behave!” The last word was drawn out. She came into view and his jaw dropped, him choking back a breath.  
  
She paced his way, her lips curling into another sly smirk at his reaction. She stopped two feet from him and did a slow three-sixty, showing off the mid-thigh black silk robe she was wearing. Then she stopped again, fingers undoing the belt of the robe to show him what was hidden beneath, and he choked back another breath. Unsurprising really. She knew what he liked and his reaction proved she’d chosen right. She opened the robe some more, a black lace corset with matching lace panties coming to view, along with garter belts holding up black thigh-highs with lace on the edge. She adjusted one of the belts painstakingly slow and he nearly forgot to breathe.  
  
He dragged a gaze over her, eyes darkening with lust and lips curling into a sly smirk of his own. “How am I supposed to behave when you’re wearing that?”  
She shrugged, again, letting the robe slide off her shoulders, and he gulped, reaching forward. “Excuse you.” She swatted his hand and he pouted.  
“Come on. Not even a feel?” His brows contracted, but eyes stayed dark. “You know how much I love seeing you in lace.”  
“Oh... I know.” She started into another three-sixty, pausing halfway in to show off the rear view, and his hands clenched into tight fists at his side. She finished the turn, offering a wicked smile, and he felt his blood rush south of his belt line.  
  
She dropped to her knees and rubbed over the top of his thighs, a naughty flicker behind her eyes, and he knew what was on her mind. “Sweetie. I thought you said you can’t.”  
“That doesn’t mean that you shouldn’t get a treat.” She winked and he husked out a breath, the vein on his neck beating dangerously fast. “Now, are you able to keep your hands to yourself, or do I need to tie you up?” She asked in the sweetest voice, another wicked smile in tow, and he groaned. She bit her lip, her fingers already curling below the waistband of his shorts.  
“God, fuck...” He groaned again, and before he could object because he wanted fair trade - _namely, pleasing her too_ -, his shorts came off. And so did his briefs. And his shirt.  
  
A few times, he tried to thread his hands through her hair. Twist her soft tresses because he loved playing with her hair while her lips worked around him. But each time she caught him at the wrists. He tried again and she pulled away. “I told you, if you can’t keep your hands to yourself, I’ll tie you up. Do it again, and I will!” She warned.  
He took her words as a challenge, so she did as she said. Tight silk bound him at his wrists, which she lifted above his head, and he groaned, yet again. His head reached up to sneak a kiss onto her neck, but she backed off just in time. “I can’t even kiss you?” He whined.  
  
“Nope. No touching at all.”  
“Fucking hell. You’re killing me.”  
She laughed at his desperation and trailed a sharp nail down his chest. “Comfortable?” She asked, visually checking his wrists, and when he nodded yes, she got up and stepped back, slowly untying the lace corset in front of him.  
“Oh god. Fuck... Liz! Now you’re just being mean.” He breathed heavily and she laughed, again. She knew exactly what this was doing to him. She knew how much he loved kissing her. Biting her. Especially her breasts. So she knew.  
  
She saw him twitch, so she dropped back to her knees, tracing a wet line up to the tip, and he moaned, his head dropping back and eyes going white. She picked up the pace, hands working over whatever she couldn’t fit, and he cussed to god. In English and in Spanish. Firmer strokes and she could tell he was chasing his release by the way his hips squirmed. A few more strokes and tightened suction then her name crossed his lips like a plea to god, along with a strangled moan.  
  
She released her hold on him, kissing him gently at the tip before trailing kisses up his abs. She straddled him and bit her bottom lip then traced the edges of his lips with her tongue, and he could taste himself on her.  
“Do I get to touch you now?” He asked, and she snickered. She unbound his hands and he wrapped his arms around her, kissing over her breasts, small bites in between. “You’re so lucky, I’m tired.”  
“Ah yeah? Why’s that?”  
“Because... I’d carry you to the shower and do naughty things under running water.”  
  
She perked a surprised brow. “Really. While I’m on my last days?”  
“I don’t care. I wouldn’t, you know, eat you out. But fingers work, and so do other things.” He wiggled his brows and she blushed. “I’d be gentle. But I’d get you there. Just slow, gentle circles around your clit while I kiss your neck, and maybe when you’re close, you know, gently find my way in and finish together.” He kissed her neck, swirling his tongue against her skin, and she moaned, vision going blurry for a second.  
She threaded her fingers through his curls, her cheeks still pink. “Hmmm... I’ll keep that in mind,” she whispered, and he nodded.  
  
He studied her face and saw her cheeks turn a few shades darker. “Sweetie. It’s nothing to be embarrassed about. And if you don’t feel comfortable having sex while on your period, that’s ok. Not going to be mad. Don’t ever say yes to appease me. Not when it comes to sex. Ok?”  
Her face gained confidence and she smiled. “I know.”  
“Ok. Good.” He nuzzled her neck, wanting to hold her some more like this, but he could feel his mind lulling off. “Hmmmmmm... Bedtime.” He mumbled and she agreed.  
  
He didn’t bother pulling on his briefs. Or any of his clothes, really. And she didn’t bother taking off thigh-highs or garter belts. Something that he kept snickering about before dozing off. Something that she found quite endearing. He could be such a man-child at times. One second completely serious about sex, and the next snickering at sexy lingerie. Knowing he could be both, serious and silly, made her heart jump.  
  
She watched him a little while longer. He’d fallen asleep with one arm draped over her and half leaned in because he’d been kissing over her breasts, again, and with a smile on his face. She watched him, wanting to make sure he stayed in dreamy bliss. The dark circles under his eyes were still there, after all. So she wanted to make sure he got a good night’s rest.  
  
He shuddered a few times, smile trading for furrowed brows and deepened forehead creases. Now and then, his lips parted with a gasp. It was during moments like that that she caressed his face. Occasionally, he appeared to be awake. She knew he wasn’t. It was like a sleep drunken state where he mumbled incoherent words only to return to full sleep a few seconds later. During those moments, she whispered to him that she was there and that things would be ok, and he’d relax back into full sleep. Eventually, sleep started catching up with her as well. So she kissed into his curls one more time and stayed close until she was in her own dreamy bliss.  
  
Friday morning felt cozy. He didn’t have anything scheduled other than the promo event in the evening, so he decided to sleep in. At least until he became aware that she, once again, was out of bed before him. He frowned at not seeing her curled up next to him with just her hair sticking out. He did, however, snicker at the fact that she’d clearly tucked another blanket around him to keep him warm.  
  
He sat up with a chuckle, hair wild, his stubble longer, yet. Like the morning before, scents of vanilla and butter lured him. Unlike the morning before, she didn’t sing. Instead, he heard her talk. A few pauses in between, her voice the only one, meant that she was on the phone. He held a breath when she talked again. He was sure she was speaking in Spanish.  
  
He got up, feeling a bit breezy, then snickered, images from last evening popping into his mind. A quick run to the bathroom then the walk-in closet and he was semi-decent in just briefs.  
Upon entering the living area, he caught her leaning forward on the island. Cell squeezed between left shoulder and ear, she was busy scribbling something down on a sticky note with one hand while the other scrolled over the touchscreen of her laptop. 

He stayed back, wanting to take in more of the scene. She was wrapped in the black silk robe, her hair in a messy bun. His eyes trailed to her legs and he noted the absence of thigh-highs, making his mind race whether she was wearing anything underneath at all. She stretched to retrieve a different pen and he spied turquoise silk, making him chuckle.  
  
Her head turned at the noise and she smiled. She raised an index towards him, waiting for whoever was on the other end to finish talking.  
“Sí.”  ...  
“Hmmm hmmmm.” ...  
“Si le he entendido correctamente. Incluso para un análisis tan básico como un examen por tomografía computadorizada había que trasladarse a otro hospital regional. _[If I understand correctly. Even a basic test like a CAT scan would require transport to another regional hospital_ _.]_ ” ...  
“Hmmmm hmmm.”  ...  
“¿Cuánto costará? _[How much will it cost?]_ ” ...  
“¿Cuánto? _[How much]_ ” ...  
“Vale. Muchas gracias.” She hung up, jotting down more information and he stood mouth agape.

  
“Sweetie?” Oscar perked a questioning brow, but before he could ask anything else, she'd dialed the next number. She raised her index again, and he took a seat by the island, watching her.  
“Papa? --- Ja ja, ich weiss. Manieren. --- Guten Tag. Wie gehts? _[Dad? --- Yes yes, I know. Manners. --- Good day. How are you?]_ ” She laughed. “Hab ich dich gestört? --- Nein? Ok gut. Bist du in Deutschland oder Spanien? _[Did I interrupt you? --- No? Ok, good. Are you in Germany or Spain?]_ ” Elise chewed on her pen, listening to her dad. Oscar watched on, trying to translate what she’d asked, and she smiled his way. 

“Ok. Kannst du mir einen Gefallen tun? Ich brauch etwas mehr Information über Hospital Clínic Costa Brava. --- Nein, nicht für mich. Für Oscars Mom. Ich hab schon rumtelefoniert weil sie mit uns mitkommt, und ich rausfinden will ob es einfacher ist wenn sie bei euch bleibt, oder wenn sie zu den Drehorten mitreist. --- Ok. Ich warte. _[Ok. Can you do me a favor? I need some more information about Hospital Clínic Costa Brava. --- No, not for me. For Oscar's mom. I've been calling around because she's coming along, and I wanted to find out if it's easier if she stays with you, or when she travels along to the locations. --- Ok. I'll wait.]_ ”  
  
Elise paced to Oscar, caressing his face, and he perked another, questioning brow. She smiled again, placing a kiss above one of his brows and he hugged her close. “Ok. Ich bräuchte Information über den zuständigen Nephrologen. --- Ja. Nieren. --- Ok. Und Kostenbeispiele. Also falls Maria mal eine Nacht im Krankenhaus verbringen muss. --- Ja, sie hat Krankenversicherung. Ich schicke dir die Details in einer E-Mail. --- Danke, Papa. Hab dich lieb _[Ok. I need information about the resident nephrologist. --- Yes. Kidneys. --- Ok. And cost samples. In case María needs to stay overnight at the hospital. --- Yes, she has health insurance. I'll send you the details via e-mail. --- Thank you, dad. Love you.]_ ” Elise hung up and Oscar hugged her closer, yet.  
  
He drew in her scent, rubbing his nose over her cleavage, and she played with his hair. “What are you doing?” He mumbled into her robe.  
“Calling around to see what we need for your mom to come along.”  
Oscar husked out a chuckle and she took a step back. “Sweetie.” He started while shaking his head in disbelief. He laced his fingers into hers and kissed over her fingertips, tears collecting at the corners of his eyes. He gulped and looked up, and she smiled, yet again. “Thank you.”  
  
She palmed over his stubble, thumbing away silent tears. “Don’t mention it, Lindo.” She kissed over his brows then collected the scribbled notes on the island. “Ok. So. I talked to Mike earlier.”  
“You called my brother? Before noon? And he .... answered?”  
Elise laughed. “Mmmmm hmmm... He’s going to help your mom get ready for travel. She doesn’t need a VISA since she’s staying for less than three months and since she’s not working. But she does need to update her insurance. Now, I’ve been calling around to the places where you’re scheduled to film.”  
“How did you do that?”  
  
Elise shrugged, typing up all the info from the sticky notes into a word document on her laptop. “I called Lenny for details. Anyways. I called around. Some of the locations are remote, and if anything should happen, she’d need to be flown out or transported by ambulance, which is very expensive. So I was thinking, we should take my dad’s and Mireia’s offer and have your mom stay with them. The hospital in Palamós is quite big. It’s maybe fifteen minutes from Mireia’s place. My dad is going to call and make sure they have a fully staffed nephrology department. She’d probably still have to pay some stuff out of pocket, but at least we don’t have to worry. About distances or finances. Plus, when I talked to Mike, he said your mom can take along up to three months of medication. All she’d need is a note or certificate from her doctor so she doesn’t have any issues....at the... checkpoints... what?” Elise stopped talking when she noticed that Oscar had snuck up to her side.  
  
She turned to face him, and his arms slipped around her to hug her close. “You did all that? For my mom?”  
She carefully kneaded up and down the back of his neck, kissing his cheek. “Of course. You said you want her there. So we’ll get her there.”  
Oscar stepped back, lips slightly parting, still processing everything. He whispered another “thank you” her way, and she just replied with another “don’t mention it”.  
  
“Why are you up anyways? I was going to make you breakfast in bed. Had the pancake batter all ready.” She teased his nose with hers and he chuckled.  
“I can go back to bed. Pretend I’m asleep.” He joked.  
“You should. And I’ll bring you breakfast and then we can snuggle the day away after.”  
“Do I get to unwrap you, at least?”  
She shrugged, a sly smirk crawling to her lips while she focused on the stove. “Only if you behave.”


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know the original event was nothing like that, but eh... it's make believe. Love how this one turned out. Enjoy.

He twirled a strand of her hair, brushing the end over his lips from time to time. “I don’t wanna get up.” He frowned, his voice raspy with sleep, and she squished her face into his side.  
“Me neither, but obligations.” She inhaled his scent, her hold on him loosening.  
  
They’d been tucked away all day, snuggled up under blankets, sleeping on and off to catch up on much-needed rest with a few make-out sessions in between. The first alarm had gone off at 4 p.m., him immediately hitting snooze. Now the alarm chimed for the fifth or so time, and he still wasn’t willing to accept defeat against the damning device. “You think Lenny will be mad if I call in sick,” Oscar grumbled and Elise laughed.  
  
She raked her fingers through his curls and kissed over the taut skin of his chest. “He’ll probably come right over to try and spoon feed you medicine.” She snickered.  
“Arrrrrrghhh... you’re probably right. Tell you what, why don’t you get ready first, and I’ll get ready after you.” He proposed and she scoffed out a breath.  
“No. Because by the time I’m ready, you’ll be back asleep. And then I’ll have to deal with a real-life Oscar the Grouch when I try to wake you.” She squinted at him and he, at last, admitted defeat. With a smirk.  
“I thought you like Oscar the Grouch.” His left brow wiggled in mischief.  
“Don’t do it.”  
“Imma do it.”  
“Oscar!”  
“Grrrrrr...”  
“Don’t!”  
“Grrrr....grouchy... grouchy grouchy grouchy.” He laughed nibbled kisses onto her skin and she shrieked, trying to wiggle away. He held tight and nibbled kisses turned into open-mouthed exploration of her neck.  
“Hhhuhhhh fuck... Oscar stop. We have to get ready.” She gasped, pushing against him.  
  
He sat up and scooted to the edge of the bed, giving her a dramatic sulk over his shoulder, and she rolled her eyes. “Alright. But only because I want to see what you’re wearing tonight.” His lips curled into a devilish smile. If last night was any indication, he might have an idea. Then again, her style was eclectic and he could be way off in his assumptions. He gave her another played sulk, but his eyes gave his thoughts away and she tossed a pillow at his head.  
“Go already!”  
“Ok ok.”  
  
Ten minutes later he stood back in the bedroom, towel around his waist, hair still dripping. She profiled him with a lingering gaze and he smirked. “Like what you see?” He swayed his hips, pivoting into a half-spin to show off other assets, and she fell into laughter. He stayed with his back to her, shaking his goods, so she took the chance and snuck off the bed.  
  
She tiptoed up to him and kissed the nape of his neck, fingertips ghosting his back to his ass. “Very much,” she whispered, squeezing him, and he shuddered. She laughed and finally made her way to the bathroom; him looking after her, smirking at the fact that she wore nothing but turquoise panties.  
  
By the time she got out, he was dressed. Clad in all black, wearing his scuffed up boots, and with his curls in an organized mess.  
She quirked a brow. “You said a step above casual.”  
“This is a step above.” He noted her lasting stare and smoothed out the fabric of his blazer. “What’s wrong with it?”  
  
“Nothing. I think I may have misunderstood. Because what Americans understand as step above casual is not what Europeans understand as step above casual.” Her lips twisted. “I don’t know if I want to wear the dress now.”  
“Awe, Sweetie. You should. I bet it’s gorgeous.”  
She shook her head.  
“Come on, mi Linda. What is Olivia planning on wearing?”  
“I’m not sure. She picked like five different things.”  
“Ok, but were those things American step above or European?”  
“European’ ish?”  
“Ok. Wear your dress. You’ll shine like a star next to me.” He smiled softly and she scrunched up her face.  
“That was cheesy. Even for you.” She laughed. So did he. “Now get out. Gotta get ready.”  
“Awe.”  
  
He was waiting in the kitchen, texting with Lenny, when he saw her head between bedroom door and frame.  
“Uhmmm.... ok... Just so you know, if it’s too much, I’ll change.”  
He chuckled and pocketed his cell, swiveling on the chair to focus on her. “Well, let’s see it.”  
She hesitated for a moment, then hitched a long breath, finally stepping into the living room. He detailed her head to toe with a slow once-over, smiling. She’d kept makeup at minimum. No earrings. No necklace. Her hair was in a soft, French twist, just the way he knew she loved wearing it for a night out. Especially with dresses like that: a black floral lace A-line with a wide satin hem hitting just below the knee and nude lining, making it appear as though the lace was part of her body rather than her wearing an actual dress. She did a nervous three-sixty, nearly tumbling over her strappy three-inch heels, and he chuckled, jumping off the chair to make his way to her.  
  
He hadn’t been entirely off with his guess. He knew she’d pick something lacy because somehow that was her. Even the floral pattern was predictable. Only the color of the lace was unexpected. Not that she’d never worn LBDs _[little black dresses]_. SDCC popped into his mind. And Montreal. And her sister’s promotion party. But those were mostly solid in color and fabric, and very curve-hugging. Take his breath away curve-hugging.  
  
And lace? She usually wore lace in bright colors. Breezy and playful. The dress she was wearing now was a combination of both. Breathtaking and playful. And he loved it already. He kissed her neck with a smile, hands sliding to her waist, him standing at eye level with her, something he very much enjoyed. “Gorgeous.”  
“It’s not too much?” She whispered, looking down on herself.  
  
He gave her another slow once-over, tracing over the dress’s Bateau neckline with his index. “No, it’s perfect.” He smiled. “Stunning, actually.” He kissed where his finger had just traced and she gasped.  
“Could you... Could you help me with this?” She placed a necklace into his hand, and he smiled when he realized that it was the Golden Snitch he’d gotten for her birthday.  
  
She turned around and waited, and he smiled, yet again. This time at her tattoo. “Tempus Fugit Velut Umbra,” he whispered before closing the clasp and leaving a tender kiss just above. She turned back and he traced over the neckline again, his brows pulling tight as he recollected the last few weeks. “Time really does flee like a shadow.” He circled a pale yellow spot on her skin, the last remnant of a healing bruise, and she nodded, tracing her index around his left brow, his own bruises already healed.  
  
His gaze fell to her left hand and his smile returned. That tourmaline stone looked great on her, even with the ring still being a size too big. And now, with her wearing the dress that she was wearing, the color of the stone really popped.  
Her gaze followed his, and she skipped a breath. “You want me to take it off?”  
His brows pulled tight, again, confused she’d even ask that. “What? **_No!_** No. If they see, they see.” He saw her biting her lip and lifted her face by the chin. “If they see, they see.” He smiled a reassuring kiss above her left brow, hugging her close, whispering “Ich liebe dich” under his breath, and she could feel her heart jump.  
  
The buzzer startled and they darted apart with a laugh. “That’s Lenny.” Oscar shook his head at the annoying triple sequences. “And if he keeps doing that, I’ll disconnect the damn thing.”  
Elise chuckled, dashing to get her purse. “He just likes being on time.”  
  
Downstairs, Lenny waited with a cigarette in hand and a stern look on face. “Elise, you could pass a red carpet photo call.” He approved of her appearance with a soft smile, which surprised her, then he shifted his attention to Oscar and shook his head, sternness returning.  
“What? You said promotion party. Promo party means a step above casual but below red carpet.” Oscar tugged on his blazer, raising a brow at Lenny’s get up: a charcoal two-piece with light blue shirt and dark blue tie. Hair meticulously styled and freshly shaven. At least Oscar was able to excuse the latter with getting ready for his next role.  
“Don’t know why you getting defensive. But since you are...”  
“I’m not changing!” Oscar opened the back door of the town car, helping Elise step in before he followed; Lenny getting into the passenger side in the front, shaking his head again.

"Take it, A.J. is not tagging along?" Lenny asked before shutting his door.  
"He's helping at The Public today," Oscar explained.  
“I see. Do you have Ned’s address?” Lenny asked over his shoulder to Elise and she nodded. She flipped her phone to show street name and number, and Lenny typed everything into the navi, instructing the driver to roll out. “That’s actually not far from here.”  
“It’s not?” Elise stretched forward to get a look at the navi, estimated time displayed as fifteen minutes.  
“Well, by car it’s not.” Lenny clarified. “Walking, it’s about an hour.”  
“Where does Ned live anyways?” Oscar chimed in.  
“Brooklyn Heights. Close to the Brooklyn Bridge Park.” Lenny scrolled on his cell.  
“Not bad.” Oscar nodded.

  
“Yeah, especially since I’m pretty sure that address is privately owned apartments. I know Leon is a professor. What does Ned do?” Lenny’s curiosity was up.  
“He’s a marketing manager for some big company in Manhattan,” Elise explained.  
“Hmm... With their combined income, no wonder they can afford a place at that address.”  
“We’re not interrogating my friend about money, are we?” Elise held a stern look this time and Lenny flinched.

  
“Cross my heart.” The P.R. rep x-ed over his heart, smiling a scrunched smile. “So. Your mom is coming along to Spain. Have you figured out yet where she’ll be staying?” Lenny geared at Oscar, sternness replaced with warmth because he knew what was going on.  
“Liz called around. We should know by Monday what we’re going to do.” Oscar explained, pulling Elise’s hand to his lips for a kiss. He smiled but didn’t say another word, not wanting to bring down the mood with heavy thoughts. Lenny nodded in understanding and refocused on his cell.  
  
Ten minutes later, they pulled up in front of a fairly large glass-and-steel front overlooking the Upper New York Bay. Oscar snickered at Elise’s flabbergasted stare. The building was modern looking - _sharp edges and very square_ -, everything else around it the typical red-bricked aesthetic one would expect to find in New York. Especially Brooklyn.  
“You wanna get out, Sweetie? Get a better look.” Oscar suggested. He didn’t have to ask. He already knew the answer. But he knew if he didn’t, she’d not take the chance. Not while there were others in the car.  
“Yes!” The excitement in her voice made even Lenny chuckle.  
“Might as well. I don’t see Ned anywhere. Could you send him a text?” The P.R. rep asked, Elise’s fingers already racing over the digital keyboard of her cell.  
  
They got out of the car one by one, Lenny walking around to lean against the hood while plucking a cigarette from a half-empty pack. He offered one to both, Oscar and Elise; Oscar accepting, Elise declining; then one to the driver, who accepted before walking off to the side to stretch his legs. 

Elise quirked a brow and Oscar pulled puppy dog eyes. “Just one?”  
She drew in a slow breath, _//considering recent news//_ at the back of her mind. She might not be a smoker but she knew that for some this habit was a coping mechanism. And he’d been pretty good about not smoking since they’d arrived. At least not at the apartment. She knew he smoked when he was out. His clothes gave him away, but at least he brushed his teeth or chewed some gum before kissing her on return. She nodded and he whispered a //thank you//.  
  
“So. Did Oscar ask you, yet?” Lenny first lit his then Oscar’s cigarette, both men leaning against the hood of the car, Elise standing a few steps back as to not get hit by smoke.  
Her eyes narrowed at Lenny’s rather sheepish grin. “Ask me what?”  
“Oh shit. Yeah. Sorry. Forgot. Uhm... well. Uhm...Isabel is going back to work since Ruth is starting school this year. And... You remember Ruth, right?” Oscar stammered.  
Elise confirmed with a nod, crossing her arms. She knew where this was heading.  
  
“Uhm... well I guess Kindergarten starts later than the rest of the grades, but Lenny and Izzy kind of already canceled daycare... and, well you’re not working a regular schedule....so... would you, Sweetie, you know, watch Ruth next week? It’s only until three. And what was it... only through Wednesday?” Oscar blinked his eyes in a puppy dog way, Lenny leaning towards Oscar to support the request with a pleading smile.  
  
“Thursday. We'll pay you, of course. She’s independent. Totally self-entertains. You can let her watch TV all day if you want. Really, it’s just watching her and feeding her now and then.” Lenny tried his most convincing smile and Elise chuckled.  
“First of, no to the money. Put it into the college fund. And second. Are we talking about a cat or one of your kids?”  
“Same difference?” Lenny’s voice went up in pitch.  
“And you have FIVE?”  
“It’s honestly no different.” Lenny shrugged nonchalantly and Elise pressed a disbelieving palm to her forehead, laughing.  
“Well. I’m not very good with kids. I don’t have anything for her.”  
“Oh. Isabel and I will bring everything Ruth needs. Please? Pretty please?” Lenny really pulled all the cards now. Biggest puppy dog smolder, widest smile, and a folded hand over one of Elise’s hands, even circling the back with his thumb. He looked ready to drop to his knees, and if Elise had waited, he probably would’ve.  
  
Instead, she pushed a breath through her nose, eyes narrowing at Oscar. “Alright. **BUT** this means we better get the office finished this weekend, that way at least the boxes are out of the way.”  
“Totally.” Oscar smiled, standing up and tugging Elise close by the waist to kiss her cheek.  
“Great.” Lenny beamed, and Elise swiftly took a snapshot of him with her cell.  
“Proof that you know how to smile.” She laughed.  
  
Lenny scrunched up his face then his eyes shifted to someone behind the couple and he finished his smoke. He straightened up, pacing back around the car, opening the back door.  
  
“Hey guys. Sorry for the wait.” Ned’s voice pulled Oscar’s and Elise’s attention. Like Lenny, he was dressed in a suit and tie, his hair styled to perfection, and face also freshly shaven. Unlike Lenny, he’d gone for a navy three-piece with a light pink shirt and magenta tie. He even sported a pocket square to match. He checked over Oscar, eyes confused. “Uhmm... thought this was tie required.”  
  
All eyes went to Oscar and he shook his head. “Step. Above. Casual!” He grumbled and helped Elise back into the car, Ned following them into the backseat with a laugh.  
“I can lose the tie and vest,” Ned suggested.  
“No. It’s alright. I promise I’ll dress nicer next time.” Oscar’s nose wrinkled.  
“For the premiere, you had better!” Lenny returned to his grumpy usual self, a secretly smiled wink geared at Elise, though, her brows pulling down.  
  
It hit like a lightning strike. Lenny’s grumpy eyes and grumpier frowns were a facade. In reality, he was very much the smiling and caring guy Elise had just witnessed outside the car. His sternness was likely a paternal thing. With five kids that wasn't at all surprising. But since Oscar liked to push buttons now and then - _especially when it came to anything press related_ -, it suddenly became quite clear: the P.R. rep had to be the bigger adult in this relationship. Even if it meant perpetually knitted brows and tight lips. He had to be because if he didn’t, anything press related would likely never get done.

Elise chuckled at the revelation, squeezing Oscar’s hand, and he, in turn, winked at her with a knowing smile. She shook her head in amusement and gazed out the window, a gasp crossing her lips when they reached Brooklyn Bridge with the sun setting just behind the Manhattan skyline. “It’s ... so... beautiful...” She barely managed the words, and the men traded smiles at her reaction, Oscar squeezing her hand.  
“Du bist wunderschön. _[You’re beautiful.[more lit. You're wonderful.]]_ ” He whispered into her ear and she blushed.  
"Michael has taught you well." She whispered, pride on her face, and Oscar's cheeks flushed.

  
Another thirty minutes _-the stretch mostly stop and go once they had crossed the bridge-_ and they reached the event location, Oscar taking a confused look out the window when he saw a mixture of bright flashes and plush crimson. “I thought this was supposed to be semi-public. Why the red carpet?”  
Lenny, too, looked a bit perplexed. “I don’t know. Let me go ask.” The P.R. rep exited the car, pulling credentials from his suit jacket when he talked to one of the securities on site. A quick back and forth and he shuffled around people back to the car. “They changed it last minute. Some of the execs are here. So you know, for show. Wish they’d told me. I’d have brought Molly to style your hair. And you’d definitely be wearing a suit.” Lenny frowned.  
  
“Fuck.” Oscar heaved a breath, side-eyeing Elise who sat frozen. “Sweetie, I’m so sorry. This is definitely not what we’ve been told.”  
“It's not your fault,” she whispered, her body tensing even more with worry.  
“Ok. Look. Don’t panic, Liz.” Lenny smiled her way when he saw her on the edge of falling apart. “We have Ned and Oscar get out first. Oscar, you walk the carpet. Pictures. Two, three short interviews tops. No more than a minute each. No comments regarding the movie. Just like we rehearsed. I’ll walk with you and then walk back to get Liz and Ned. Alright? Liz? Ned?”  
  
Ned agreed with a smile and Elise nodded with a gulp caught in her throat. Somehow this was almost insane. It was just a quick walk. A quick walk with a few dozen photographers and _-if she’d counted correctly after a glance out the door-_ at least half a dozen reporters.  
Ned got out, straightening his suit jacket before buttoning back up, Oscar ready to follow but Elise held his hand tight. His brows pulled together when he saw her face. “What’s wrong?”  
“I’m sorry,” she moused out.  
  
Oscar leaned in, caressing her face. “For what, Sweetie?”  
“Not walking with you.” She felt her heart pounding hard against her ribcage, disappointed at herself, and she didn’t know why. She’d been to things like this before. With her brother-in-law. And Lenny. And a few acting friends, too. She even knew what to do. Stay behind, wait a few minutes, then follow with family and friends as to not cause distraction or get caught in often invasive Q  & As once people realized a person belonged to a certain someone.  
  
She actually would’ve walked with Oscar had it been the simple occasion they’d been told it would be. He knew that. And so did Lenny. They’d talked about it this afternoon. No holding hands but walking side by side. Or close to, with her maybe a few steps behind or ahead. It was all planned. But this was different and she felt childish for feeling scared over something she’d done a few times before.  
  
Oscar picked up on the fear and gently shook his head, lips pulling into a soft smile. “Sweetie. It’s ok. I’m not upset. Ok? I’m not. I promise. I’m actually a bit peeved that they did this.” He kissed over her hand, smiling reassuringly and she let go at last. “I’ll see you inside, ok? Don’t worry, Sweetie. Lenny will get you. And Ned is right here.”  
She nodded, thin smile in tow, and he recaptured her hand, squeezing a few times and kissing it one more time.  
  
She watched through the window while Oscar maneuvered his way down the carpet, him looking confident but she could tell he was wearing a mask of himself. Guarded distance. She’d seen it a few times now. Usually whenever a fan recognized him. She knew it was him and yet it wasn’t. It was professional Oscar. The trained, red carpet version. Polite and smiling, considerate in his responses, gracious when talking to fans, but a little stern with autograph hunters.  
  
He signed a few things at the barricade, posed for pictures by the sponsor wall, and stopped for a couple of interviews, just like Lenny had advised. Elise saw him laughing with one of the reporters, people occasionally blocking her view. He shook his head at whatever was asked, and she wished she knew what was being said. She felt a tug in her stomach, worry crawling back up her spine, then she lost sight of him.  
  
She craned her neck around headrests but Oscar must’ve finally stepped inside. Lenny squeezing and weaving his way back behind other P.R. reps confirmed her assumption. He reached the car, his suit a little disheveled, and Elise finally got out. “Alright. So, there’s at least one reporter who knows who you are. But we’re walking right past, ok? No stopping. Ned, you go left, Elise middle, I’m on the right. Alright, doll?” Lenny’s eyes wrinkled smugly at the corners and Elise laughed abashed into her palm.  
“What did you call me?”  
“Doll. But don’t tell Oscar. He might think I’m flirting.” Lenny laughed, happy he was able to cheer Elise up.  
  
They started towards the carpet, almost past the photographers’ pit, when a female voice yelled a cheery “Elise”.  
“Wait! Wait! Yay. You made it.” Olivia Munn pulled Elise into a hug, the actress beaming ear to ear, flashes going off at their embrace.  
“Miss Munn. I’m sorry. We’re trying to avoid the storm.” Lenny gently nudged Elise onward with a hand on her back, her expression a bit perplexed. Mainly because of the noise and constant flashes.  
Olivia snickered, her cheery mood not dampened at all. “Okay. Well for what it’s worth, you look like you belong.” The actress winked. “I’ll see you inside ok.”  
“Ohh ohkay.” Elise stammered with a nod and Olivia snickered, again.  
  
The small group pressed on, Elise hearing photographers yelling her friend’s name behind her. A few more steps and they finally made it inside, the words _Force Friday_  greeting at the threshold. Elise took a deep breath in, biting her lip, and Lenny hugged her to his side. “Good job, Doll. Knew, you’d do fine.” He smiled, and Elise felt one-hundred percent lighter.  
  
She peered around, spotting Oscar talking to a few sharply dressed men, all of them laughing. Clearly, his charm overshadowed his get up, which aided in putting her at ease.  
“So, drink?” Ned’s eyes crinkled with a smile.  
“Oh god, yes.” Elise chuckled.  
“I’d say, well deserved.” Lenny squeezed her close again then led the two to the bar built just for this event.  
  
Elise looked over her shoulder towards Oscar, him now caught up talking to a petite redhead. Oscar saw Elise and waved her way then gestured the woman with red hair to follow him.  
“Liz. Hey, Sweetie.” Oscar beamed ear to ear when he reached her, the woman he’d talked to stopping a couple of feet behind him. “You ok? Heart ok?”  
Elise nodded, her smile rivaling his.  
“Good. I want you to meet a friend of mine.” Oscar stepped aside. “Liz, this is Jessica Chastain. Jess, this ... This is my Elise.” He pulled his bottom lip between his teeth, turning slightly red at the ears.  
  
“Well, it’s about time.” Jessica laughed, almost lunging forward, completely ignoring Elise’s stretched out hand as she went right for a hug. “You know, I’ve been waiting to meet you for months.” The actress squeezed Elise’s forearms, Elise a bit startled by all of it. “Gosh. Look at you, poor thing. Nervous?”  
“A little,” Elise admitted with an awkward laugh.  
Jessica leaned in, lips pursing and eyes squinting. “Me, too. Liquid courage?”  
“Already on it.” Lenny handed out glasses with champagne, handing the one he’d reserved for himself to Jessica.  
“And where’s mine.” Olivia’s voice came from the side, taking all a bit off guard.  
“Geez. What I look like? A waiter?” Lenny grumbled, and the group fell into laughter.

**Author's Note:**

> If you have questions regarding any of the translations, please do not hesitate to ask


End file.
